


The Princess, And Him

by Rachel_Lu



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Royalty, College, F/M, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, London, Modern Royalty, Princes & Princesses, Royalty, Secret Identity, Secrets, The Prince and Me - Freeform, Undercover, University, princess at Uni, working in a bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-09 16:43:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7809547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachel_Lu/pseuds/Rachel_Lu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose Tyler, Princess of the Kingdom Powell, has wanting nothing more than to go to university across their pond in London to study art.  Her parents let her go and she meets many people along the way who make her wish she wasn't royal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is loosely, LOOSELY based on the events of the movie "The Prince and Me" which is absolutely excellent and cheesy and beautiful. This is fantasy, obviously Powell does not exist, but the feelings are real :)
> 
> I love Royalty AUs, as this is my third or fourth one........... So, I hope you enjoy :)

"I want to go to university."

Jackie Tyler, beloved queen of the kingdom of Powell, turned around to address her daughter.  "You want to what?"

Rose smoothed down her deep green skirts.  "I know that we're not supposed to do that.  But I'm young, you know, and I want to go to London." 

"Blimey, Rose, that's across the bleedin' ocean," Jackie said quietly, and Rose winced at her language. 

She lifted her chin. "Mother, it would be a good experience," she argued, "And how am I supposed to rule Powell if I have not learned anything about the rest of the world?"

"We'll talk to your father at dinner."

Dinner, at the Powell Palace (no pun intended, but certainly one people giggled over in the towns) was an elaborate affair.  Rose dressed in her deep blue gown, with the help of her maidservant, Sarah Jane, and a silver tiara was placed on her head. She looked rather nice, as she always did, but she craved to go to university. 

She was allowed many freedoms.  To flirt with who she liked, speak to who she liked, anything, go where she liked. But she felt so sheltered.  She found that Uni in London excited her, and if had been so long since she had been excited about something.  

"Do you think they'll let me?" Rose asked wistfully as she touched the diamond pendant on her necklace.  

"Perhaps, my lady," Sarah Jane said kindly, "I hope for your sake that they do.  You light up when you speak of it."   

Rose smiled.  "Yes.  I keep my expectations low, however."

Sarah Jane grinned. "A wise thing for a future queen to do," she said, "Now, come now, we'd best get you fed so you can ask."

**  
She sat straight backed at dinner, trying to be the epitome of grace, as she had been taught to be.  She had been raised using the right forks, and always doing the right things.  It had been good, in the beginning, but she felt repressed.  Really, _really_ repressed.  She remembered what her mother and father had said about not speaking when spoken to, and so she waited for her father or mother to say something.

It was quiet, as though her parents were privy to torturing her.  The only sound was the clinking of silverware on china plates, and she shifted a little awkwardly.  She wanted to say something, of course, she did, but of course, she knew better.

"So, I hear from your mother that you wish to travel to London," Pete, the King, said finally.  

Rose jerked up and nodded. "Yes sir.  I wish to study there."

"And what would you study?"

"Art, sir."

Pete hummed in the back of his throat, not giving a single thing away.  "Wife, what do you think of this?"

"What do _you_ think?" Jackie replied, putting Pete in a corner, as she always had.

He looked at his wife a little helplessly.  "You only go there to study?" He asked, arching a brow at Rose. 

She had prepared for this, even if she had to wipe her hands on the napkin in her lap in a subtle fashion.  "I think it would be fascinating to study the people in London as well, father.  There's no caste system there, and they dress very casually all the time.  It's very interesting.  I should understand the world if I am to become queen, don't you think?" 

"You make some excellent points, my dear," Pete said solemnly.  He turned to Jackie. "I would like to hear your ideas with no deflections, love," he said, smiling.

Jackie grinned back at him and turned to her daughter.  "Your points are valid.  I think you shall be allowed to study for a year.  But!" she lifted a finger, "You will not tell anyone who you are.  It would only put you at risk.  We'll arrange the rest.  Sarah Jane will go with you.  And you must stay there the whole year, holidays included.  No giving up. Is that understood?"

Rose nodded, beaming happily. "Yes!  Yes, oh, yes, it's understood!  Thank you!" She started to launch up to hug her parents but then fell back in her seat, remembering herself. 

Pete rolled his eyes and held his arms out. "Oh, come on now, then," he said, and Rose smiled widely, running over to hug him and then her mother, kissing them both on the cheek.

"We reserve the right to bring you back here at any time," Jackie said, waggling a finger at her Doctor, "So don't you even think about buying a house or something stupid like that."

Rose laughed, despite herself.  "Yes, ma'am, I think I can do that."

Jackie nodded and smiled over at her daughter.  "Alright, yes, yes, we'll organize it all for you.  Now, eat your peas."

******

Rose ran straight back to her room to pack when everyone was notified that she would be leaving.  The castle was alight with confusion and the servants tried to talk with her, to figure out what she was thinking, mostly.  

"Princess Rose, do you even have proper clothes to wear in London?" one woman from the kitchen asked, worry written all over her face.

"Yes," Rose assured her, clasping her hands and smiling warmly.  "I've been gathering up the clothes I wear on the weekends here just for the event that my parents might allow me to go to London. This could be very good!"

"Oh, I believe you, Princess!" The servant woman said, a smile on her face. "Best of luck to you."

"Thank you," Rose squeezed her hand and disappeared from the hall, rushing to her room. 

Sarah Jane had already heard the news, and was already starting to pack up Rose's things in a large trunk.  Rose rushed to help, packing up pairs of jeans and hoodies and t-shirts that she had never worn before.  She had a ton of them, for the weekends, like she had told the servant, but her father didn't like when she wore them.  Powell was a very classical country, and the monarchy wore gowns or suits at all times, or, for as long as someone was laying eyes on them.  The casual clothes would be a nice change, Rose thought, and she felt her heart skip happily. 

"It looks like you and I are going to be roommates, Princess," Sarah Jane said, smiling.

Rose beamed.  "Yes!"  She felt her smile fade.  "But what will we tell them?"

"Not many people in London know much about Powell," Sarah Jane said, "We can say that I'm your bodyguard, or someone sent with your family to watch over you."

"I think that's a good one, the family thing.  If you say bodyguard, they'll know that I'm... I don't know, somebody," she smiled timidly, "I don't want to be ousted.  I just want to study art, and be normal."

"Your talent will take you far, my Princess," Sarah Jane said warmly.  "Now, we've got some dresses for you."

Rose frowned.  "Gowns?  No, no, I-"

"No, other dresses," Sarah Jane said, showing Rose a short blue dress with a skirt that would flow down to the knees and had little pink decals on it.  "The University students go to parties, you know.

Rose gasped.  "I love it!" She said, grinning from ear to ear.

"I've sent for several different ones for you, different styles and colors, but no gowns.  All casual," Sarah Jane grinned at her charge.  "I think you're going to do very well, Princess."

Rose hopped up and down a little, her skirts fluffing with the movement. "Alright then, let's get ready!"

****  

John Smith was a Uni student who worked very calmly in a pub when he wasn't in school or at his flat that he shared with two other students.  It was a rusty old pub, and of course, some grimy people came in and did grimy things, but for the most part it was seen as classic and the people who entered the building, for the most part, were kind and gentle. 

It was well lit and he was very much enjoying being a bartender, since he was having quite a lot of fun getting to know the regulars and chatting them up.  He was surprised at how much he got propositioned by the older women who had no place else to go, but that was alright.  He was also getting very good at deflecting them.  

"We've got a new exchange student coming into Uni this year," Jack, one of John's roommates, said when he was coming to pick John up.  

"Really?" John asked as he cleaned out one of the glasses that had been left on the counter.  "Who told you that?"

Jack gave him a dubious look and smiled as though to say "how do I get _all_ of my information?"

John rolled his eyes. "You're not sleeping with the headmaster, are you?" he asked, not that he would be shocked at all if the answer was yes. 

"Don't be ridiculous," Jack laughed, "I slept with the headmaster's sister.  She knew all about it, and I'm very persuasive."  He eyed John suspiciously, "Real pretty girl, apparently."

"Alright, and?" John asked. "What's your point?"

"My point is that you haven't had a girlfriend since you started going for your doctorate," Jack said slowly, as though he was trying to be gentle with John's feelings but in the end wasn't going to be too torn up if they got hurt. 

"So, who cares if I haven't had a girlfriend?" John groused, putting the next glass away probably a bit new roughly.  "That's not the most important thing in the world."

"No, but it's nice," Jack said.

"You've probably dated every girl on campus, not to mention a few others," John snapped, leaning on the bar.  He arched a brow.  "I'm surprised that you're not going after the exchange student before she gets here. Do you have her number? Are you _pen pals?"_

Jack laughed, a hearty sound that echoed through the almost empty bar. It drew the attention of his coworkers, but at John's 'what can you do' shrug, they turned back to their cleaning of the tables. 

"To answer your question, no, I don't know anything about this girl, besides that she's pretty and blonde and most likely got a great body."

"You don't know that," John disagreed.

"Maybe you should jump on her while you can, John.  If she's hot and foreign?  Every guy on campus is going to be after her," he said.  

"Where's she from?" John asked, doing his best to sound disinterested. And of course, he was... Wasn't he?  He really didn't need a girlfriend.  He didn't have time for one.  If he had one, they'd be bored with him immediately because he would blow off dates and forget anniversaries... It wasn't worth it, not really.

"The Kingdom of Powell," Jack said, adopting a posh accent to say the sentence. 

John snorted.  "No, she's not.  Someone from Powell, coming here?  First of all, that's so far.  Second of all, they have an education system there that's probably way better than London's."

"You don't know, have you _been_ there?" Jack asked mockingly. 

"Well."

Jack looked at his watch.  "Are you almost ready? I've got a date."

"Listen, you were the one that said it wasn't going to be a problem for you to pick me up while ol' Bessie is in the shop."

"Yeah, well, ol' Bessie is a little bit _old._ You need a new car."

"She's served me well," John said proudly.  

"Alright.  Let's just go."

John bid his coworkers goodnight on the way out, his mind preoccupied.  Term stared in three days.  How was someone going to ship out from Powell? And _why?_

He was good at dissecting things, breaking them down and making them make sense.  This didn't make sense though. Powell was a very rich monarchy that was too far from London for it to make a small difference on which facility to go to school at.

"Ooh, now you're thinking about that girl," Jack said, waggling his eyebrows as he started the car.

John rolled his eyes.  "Come on, I am not," he said, "I'm thinking about the logistics of her arrival, that's all."

"Oh yeah, you'd love to hear all about her _logistics."_

"Oh, my God, Jack."

Jack chuckled and started driving them back to their flat.  It was quiet for a few moments before he finally said quietly, "Just promise you'll try to light up this year, won't you?"

John nodded. It was his last year of Uni, after all.  Then he'd have his doctorate in Astronomy.  He could do whatever he wanted.  "Yeah," he agreed softly, "Maybe you're right."


	2. Chapter 2

Rose and Sarah Jane were packed up and towards London lickety-split.  Rose had put on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie, which made her feel completely free, as she had never worn clothes like this before.  She had looked in the mirror before they left, grinning at herself in the mirror. 

"I've got all the books and folders you need, along with your schedule," Sarah Jane said, looking over a list she held in her hand, "Let's get going."

Rose nodded, "Right, let's go!"

She was so happy.  She hugged and kissed her parents goodbye, but she couldn't crack the grin that had settled itself upon her face.  A limo took them to the airport and the plane took them to London.  The moment they landed Rose was a bouncing ball of energy, but managed to restrain herself in a way that was very much that of a princess.  She laced her fingers together and tried very hard not to skip along the road.  

The first thing Sarah Jane wanted to do was get Rose's dorm assignment. "I'll have to stay off campus, my princess," Sarah Jane said, "One block away, in an apartment complex.  Your mother had it arranged."

"Oh," Rose had never been without Sarah Jane before, and the thought amde her a little nervous.  "Okay."

"You'll have a roommate, princess, and from what I hear, she's studying to be a doctor.  She should be very nice," Sarah Jane tried to reassure her. "Remember, you won't have me for so much when you are queen.  I think this will be good for you.  You have a mobile, your father made sure of that, and I have one.  You can text and call your friends, once you make them, which you will make."

Rose smiled, feeling a little bit at ease with that. "Alright," she said, nodding more to herself than Sarah Jane.  "Okay, yeah."

Sarah Jane nudged her shoulder against Rose's.  "I think you should go ahead and go in by yourself.  You know where you're going?"

Rose nodded, looking at the slip of paper with loopy cursive writing with her dorm number and directions on how to get there that Sarah Jane had copied from instructions from the university.  Rose was a little worried about it, but she nodded again, just to convince herself.  "Yeah, I'll get there."

"Okay.  I have a friend here in London, Rose, so don't you worry about me," Sarah Jane reassured her, noticing the look on her face and not wanting her to be worried.  Rose was a compassionate girl, never snooty like so many of the other royals that they had met along the way.  Jackie and Pete had raised their daughter well, and that was not really a fact up for debate.

Sarah Jane didn't fear Rose's safety.  She thought it would be fine for Rose to be by herself.  She trusted her charge more than she trusted the people, and she would be close by, which she hoped was reassuring.  She wrapped her arm around her shoulder. 

"My dear, you'll be certain to call me every night, won't you?  I have to know you're safe," Sarah Jane warned, "But I won't have you dependent on me.  You were the one who wanted this, you must remember."

Rose nodded, feeling like she was doing a lot of that, actually.  "Of course," She said solemnly, "At some point, I will have to rule Powell by myself, after all."

"Don't make that face," Sarah Jane grinned and pinched Rose's cheek, hoping to make her smile.  "You'll be fine.  This is _fun,_ Rose.  Hard work, but fun.  Now, get to!"

Rose giggled and studied Sarah Jane for a moment. "Are you gonna go meet your friend?" She asked. 

"Yes," Sarah Jane smiled.  "We haven't seen each other in a while, I think we'll catch up very nicely.  "Now, you go on."

Rose gave Sarah Jane a hug, squeezing her tightly, feeling tears brew even in spite of her monumental happiness.  "Thank you," she whispered.

Sarah Jane patted her charge's back, smiling.  "Of course, princess."

Rose was reluctant to go into the dorm, as it was a massive brick building and seemed far more overwhelming than the castle she'd grown up in was.  She smoothed her hands over her jeans and threw her backpack over her shoulders and set about rolling her massive suitcase behind her.  

She was relieved their was a lift, having been afraid that there was just going to be stairs.  She was alone in the lift, which was unnerving, though she couldn't put a finger on why.  Perhaps it was because she'd always had a servant or attendant with her.  She scratched her neck with one finger and tried to stand a little taller as she moved to her floor.  She slowly walked down the hall, looking at her paper and the numbers on the walls.

"Hey, do you need some help?"

Rose turned to find a dark skinned woman with perfectly styled hair behind her, smiling widely.  Rose smoothed down her own hair, feeling a bit insecure, which she had never felt before, and smiled. 

"Hello.  And yes. Do you know where this room would be?" Rose asked, extending her hand with the paper in it towards the girl. 

She took it and instantly smiled.  "Oh, you're from Powell!  you're my roommate!  I'm Martha Jones," she stuck her hand out and Rose let out a whoosh of breath that she supposed was a rather violent sigh.

She took her hand and shook it gratefully.  "I'm so glad it's you, then," She admitted, "I'm Rose Tyler.  I've never had to do anything like this before, honestly, and I'm having a bit of trouble adjusting already."

"It'll take time," Martha reassured her.  "I remember my first day.  That was rough.  But luckily, classes don't start till the day after tomorrow.  So you'll have a day to calm down and- hey, do you have a job?"

Rose blinked. "A job?"

"Yeah, a job," Martha smiled sympathetically as they started walking.  "You're gonna need a job, unfortunately.  Nothin's free.  I know a place that's hiring right now, if you're interested."

Rose blushed and looked down. "I've never had a job," she admitted, a little embarrassed by the fact.  It seemed that Martha was a woman of the world and Rose didn't understand the world a bit.  She'd been guarded, although loosely, for her whole life.  Now what was she supposed to do?

Martha smiled. "Then this is a good entry level.  It's a pub, real close to campus.  I think you could apply to be a waitress."

"Do you think I could do it?"

"Anybody can write down orders an' bring em' out," Martha said encouragingly.  "I did it for awhile my first couple years in school.  Once you get the hang of it, it'll be okay.  Maybe we can go down tonight and you can apply. They're hurting pretty bad for employees right now."

"Have you considered applying?"

"Me?  Nah.  I work in retail."

****

Rose realized that perhaps she had not spent enough time with girls her age.  Martha was fun and smart and Rose found that she instantly wanted to be her best friend.  The two were able to talk quite easily, though Martha commented on Rose's posh phrasing.  Rose heard that as a warning bell and thought that maybe, perhaps, she should tone it down so nobody knew who she was.   

Then again, the knowledge of the land of Powell was very much limited.  People didn't really know about it, or who was ruling the country.  They were a quiet country, not really exposing themselves, nor were they as flashy as the monarchy in Britain. 

Martha showed her the common eating area, a 'cafeteria', she called it, and Rose was almost horrified by some of the food there, though when she began eating it, found it wasn't as bad as she thought.  She found that they had something they called 'chips' that she could eat entire buckets of.  Once Martha hinted that you could have vinegar on them, Rose was completely hooked.

From dinner they went straight to the pub that Martha wanted her to apply at.  The place was a bit of a dive, but had a certain charm to it.  There weren't loads of people in it, it was actually quite calm, but there were, of course, people laughing and talking at the bar and some sitting around tables having dinner.  She walked up to the bar at Martha's urging, where a brown haired man with an easy smile looked up at her. 

She felt her heart thunder in her chest.  Oh, she couldn't let this happen.  He was very attractive, and she was having trouble thinking straight, as she'd never really _dated_ anyone, but she couldn't, not here, and she scolded herself for even thinking it.  

"Hello," She said, lacing her fingers together in front of her.  "My name's Rose and I'd like to apply to be a server here."

The man smiled, and his eyes crinkled slightly with the movement, and she felt her stomach flip.  Oh, this was really not good.

"Well, I'm John Smith and I'd love to have you for an interview.  We're actually rather understaffed right now."  He reached out to shake her hand and she placed her hand in his, confused when he shook her hand roughly and enthusiastically.  She forced the smile to stay on her face, as any good royal did. 

"I'll wait over here," Martha jerked her head to one of the tables, and Rose turned to her and nodded.  

"Alright, come in the back with me," John said, taking off his apron and sliding it under the bar.  

Rose hesitated, a little unsure of being alone with the man, but figured that this was how things must be done in London and followed him alone the bar to go in the back room, which was just beyond the kitchen.  It was a dingy little break room with a little table with four chairs and a fridge in the corner.  There were a couple small windows and dainty blue curtains covering them.  

"Have a seat, please," he pulled out a chair for her and she sat, her chin high.  John eyed her for a moment and sat down next to her.  "I take it you're the student from Powell?" He asked.

She looked surprised at that. "How did you know?"

He grinned.  "Well, you're very dignified, Rose.  Many of the people from Powell are, they're very respected here."

"Oh, I didn't know that," she replied, feeling a bit pleased and pride for her country swelling within her.  "I should tell you I've never had a job."

John furrowed his brows.  "Well, that's alright.  We can't be picky.  But then you'll have to work behind the bar with me.  I don't want you to have to learn more than you have to.  It'll be much easier to learn the bar then orders and taking them out and all that remembering.  Besides, I can help you better behind the bar."

Rose nodded.  "Very well.  But won't that be... I don't know, very difficult?  There are many drinks in the world, I'm told."

"You don't drink?"

"Only champagne, a few times.  And wine."

"Well, I'm a beer man myself," John said conversationally, smiling at her.  She couldn't help but smile back as he said, "Well, it'll be easier because I'll be right next to people.  And on top of that, the drunk people are better tippers." 

She blinked. "So that was it?  The whole interview?"

"Well, I did say we were understaffed, and you seem very personable."  He put down the notepad that he had actually not written a single thing on.  He leaned onto the table.  "So, then, what are you studying?"

"Art," Rose replied quickly.  "What do you study?"

"I'm getting a doctorate in Astronomy.  This is my last year."  He grinned.

She paused.  "So how old are you?" She asked curiously.

"Twenty-six," he replied breezily, "I'm rather brilliant."

Rose smiled, "Oh, and so filled with humility," she said.

He grinned back at her.  "Of course," he winked.  "And how about you, since we're asking about age here."

She blushed prettily at his words and looked down.  "I'm twenty," she replied, looking back up at him.  

"Well, there you are then," he said kindly, trying not to be disappointed that she was so much younger than him.  He was quite afraid it showed.  "Can you come in tomorrow night?  It would be easier to train you then since classes don't start until the day after."

Rose nodded and stood up, and he stood up after her.  "Alright," she agreed.  "Thank you very much."

He reached for her hand again and she shook it, understanding a little better now.  

"Okay," he smiled, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Alright," She replied, turning for the door, smiling a little to herself. "Tomorrow."


	3. Chapter 3

The two girls set up their dorm that night, which made Rose break a sweat as they had to move furniture and decide which desk belonged to which girl.  She scratched at the back of her neck and looked around the room.  

"Is that all?" She asked.

"Well, we have to unpack now," Martha said, pulling out one of her suitcases.  

Rose nodded weakly and pulled out her own, wishing she had Sarah Jane with her to help. But then again, this was what she wanted, to be self reliant, and that was exactly what she was getting.  So she folded all her clothes and socks and marveled at the lack of gowns.  She realized that the dresses that Sarah Jane had given her, while not fancy, should probably still be put on hangers.  They were really rather pretty, and she found herself smoothing her hands over them, wanting an opportunity to wear them.

"Those'll be good for parties," Martha remarked.

"I don't know if I would like a party," Rose mused, fingering the sleeve of one dress.

"Well, you never know, you might," Martha said, "Keep your options open."

Rose nodded.  She was right of course.  She turned to her new friend and smiled.  "I've got to call a friend of mine, I'll be right back."

"Oh, hey, I have to go down to commons anyway so you go ahead and chat up here," Martha replied, "I know it's hard, being in a new place like this, especially as far from home as you are, but it all works out in the end, alright?  You'll be just fine."

Rose hugged Martha, who laughed at the unexpected gesture before leaving the room.  Rose picked up the mobile she had been given and scrolled through the contacts that someone (she wasn't sure who) had already entered.  There was Sarah Jane, her mother and father, and some other servants from the castle.  It was at that moment that she realized she really didn't' have many friends.  She bit her lip.  Maybe things could change here.

Sarah Jane answered on the second ring.  "Hello, Princess!  How are things going?"

"Are you settling in well with your friend?" Rose asked, trying to get the focus on Sarah Jane so the other woman would not sense her nervousness.

"Yes, we're doing just fine," Sarah Jane assured her.  "And how are _you?"_

"I'm okay," Rose said, "My roommate made me get a job."

"Well, that's part of the experience, my dear, not to mention you'll need money.  Your mother and father do not plan on paying for all of your expenses."

"Yes, I know, but it's at a bar, and I've never tended a bar or been at a bar or... But the man who works there said he would stay with me the whole time."

"Well, that's all that matters," Sarah Jane said, though she sounded a bit unsure. "Just be careful, love.  Bars can be dangerous places, especially in London.  keep an eye out."

"Yes, ma'am," Rose said respectfully.  "I start tomorrow.  And the man who's helping me?  His name is John and he's getting a doctorate.  So I suppose everyone starts somewhere."

"Everyone does," Sarah Jane agreed.  "Now, you get off to bed, you'll have a busy day if you start work tomorrow.

"Alright.  Goodnight, Sarah Jane."

"Goodnight, Princess."

Rose rang off and prepared for bed, feeling uneasy but excited. They said this was a grand adventure, going to uni.  Maybe the adventure started tomorrow.  

****

After Martha and Rose got their dorm room set up together, the next day, Rose had to prep for her new job.  She didn't know anything about bar-tending and she was incredibly nervous, but Martha tried to assure her that things would be just fine.   She helped Rose pick out a black t-shirt and black jeans, telling her that that would probably be the 'uniform' of sorts. 

Rose looked at herself in the mirror.  She hardly recognized herself and straightened her shoulders, trying to look a bit more like the princess that she was.  It was incredibly reassuring to be seen like that.  She was still a royal.

"Alright, let's get you down to the bar," Martha said, winking at her.  Rose didn't quite understand the joke, but she laughed anyway.

Martha took Rose's hands and tried to get her to stop the little shake that was starting.  "You'll be just fine," she promised.  "Especially with that John guy.  What a hottie."

"Martha," Rose colored deeply.  "He was...  Very nice to me."

"Oh, very, very nice.  He liked you, Rose."

"I don't know about that," she replied.

"Well, no reason you can't flirt with him," Martha shrugged.  "He might be your college sweetheart, like they say."

Rose reached for her purse. "I'm not really looking for any sort of romance," she admitted, "But what am I supposed to do if he starts to... Like me."

Martha lifted a shoulder. "I dunno.  Kiss his face."

Rose blushed even deeper if it was possible.  "I've never-"

"What!" Martha cried out, as she was slipping her shoes on her feet.  "You've never had a boyfriend or anything?"

Rose shook her head.  She had flirted, of course she had, she was a young woman and she craved attention just as much as any other girl.  She lifted a shoulder.  "There is not much need for courtship until we are to get married at Powell," she said.

"Oh, well, then, I think it's time you start a courtship," Martha said enthusiastically.

"I don't know about that," Rose laughed, and stared off into space for a moment. "But I have to admit that it is a nice thought."

Martha smiled, realizing that Rose was far more foreign than she originally thought.  "Come on now, can't have you being late on your first day."

Rose smiled, having to agree, and the two of them walked out of the dorm and took to the bar.  Rose felt her heart  hammering harder and harder in her chest as she neared the doors. She went in, and looked back to Martha for moral support.

"I'll sit here for awhile," she gestured to one of the tables, "But then I'm gonna leave you, okay?"

"Okay," Rose repeated.  She walked back to the bar and saw John already hard at work, mixing drinks and chatting up the customers.  He looked up and saw her, and his face lit up.

"Rose!" he called, smiling widely at her.  "One moment, men, new recruit here."  He walked to her and took her hand, taking her back to the back room. 

"Can you leave the bar-"

"Oh, yes, they'll be fine," John said, "The worst they can do is drink us dry, and they'll pass out before that happens.  Now, I've got an apron for you," he handed her a green apron that was less than flattering and tied around the neck and waist.  She secured it tightly, trying to appear perhaps a little thinner than the garment intended her to. 

"Alright." John snapped her out of her thoughts.  "Here's a name tag for you, I make all of them for the new employees."

She took it from him. It was a standard, silver oval name tag, and her name was written on it in calligraphy, pink, hand drawn roses wrapped around it with vines linking them together.

"John, this is beautiful."

"It's not much," he shrugged, "I just thought you'd like it."

She smiled up at him and pinned it onto her apron. "I do, thank you."

"Of course.  Now, you'll just be pouring beer tonight, it's the easiest thing, and I don't want you learning everything at once, your brain will explode."

She giggled and followed him back out to the bar.  He clapped his hands together and rubbed his palms, as though preparing for something quite drastic. 

"Alright, boys, this is Rose Tyler, treat her nice, she's a lady.  She'll get you your beer, I'll get you your everything else."

The men at the bar laughed and it was clear to Rose that the customers liked John, maybe because he was so kind and fun.  He was, after all.  The smile never fell from his face, he was so genuinely excited to be alive.

One of the men ordered a beer and John showed her how to operate the tap. She held her breath as she filled the beer but luckily things went off without a hitch and she handed the man his beer. 

"Thank you," he said, and winked at her.

She smiled back.  "You're welcome."

He handed her a five pound note and looked to John for help, as he had already paid for his drink.  

"It's a tip," he whispered to her, "It's yours."

"Oh!" She said softly, and tucked it into her apron pocket.  "Thank you," she said to the man, who just winked again in response.  

The night went smoothly, though Rose almost had a panic fit more than once, her heart rate accelerating and vision blurring.  She'd had responsibility, of course, but the people she was responsible to had never been so close at hand.  She wrung her hands when she wasn't doing anything until finally John reached over and took her hand.

"It's okay," he murmured, "We're closing soon.'

She gave him a tight lipped smile and squeezed his hand, quite enjoying the feel of his fingers around hers, wrapping around them, feeling safe.  He gave her a more reassuring smile than the one that she had given him, and released her hand.  She wondered what that feeling was, that made her feel so cold after he released her.  

It was alarming, how good she got at serving beer, and it seemed she was getting lots and lots of 'tips' for doing nothing.  A few men whistled at her and John told them off immediately, telling them that Rose was a lady and would not be spoken to (or whistled at, she supposed) that way.  

Everything came rapidly to a head when someone shouted, "How much is _she,_ Mr. Smith?"

Rose may have been ignorant in the ways of the world, but she knew what that meant.  She felt tears rising in her eyes but didn't let them come over her lashes.  If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was how to remain strong, like she had always been taught.  

She lifted her chin and John's gaze snapped to the man who said it, his eyes blazing with an anger that she had never seen before.  

"Oi!  Now you shut up!" he shouted, standing next to Rose.  "This is _not_ that kind of establishment, but you already know that, don't you?  All you've done is make a lovely _young_ woman uncomfortable.  Get out!" 

The men at the bar jeered and shouted at the man John had reprimanded and the man left, tail between his legs.  John was still standing rather close to Rose and placed his hand on her back, looking down at her.  "Are you okay?"

She nodded.  "Yes," she said softly, "I think so.  Thank you."

"Of course, Rose.  That was a completely juvenile thing of him to do. You'll run into a few of those, I'm afraid.  You're very attractive."  Right as the words left his mouth he blushed hotly and stammered for a moment before snatching his hand from her back and striding to the other end of the bar. 

Even though he'd reacted so strongly to his own words, Rose found herself smiling a little at them.  He thought she was attractive, possibly even liked her, and he didn't even know that she was a princess.  A thought like that had never been brought into consideration.  

As they cleaned the tables that night, John, Rose, and the other employees didn't really speak to each other, but Rose found herself dancing a bit to the music that they had started playing in the restaurant.  She'd heard John mumble something about his roommate coming to pick him up and gone to wash glasses.  When he came back she was dancing, drawing the rag slowly across the counter, light on her feet. 

He stopped short, watching her.  She was graceful, the epitome of womanly beauty, in his eyes, at least.  He was shocked by a hand slapping his shoulder and jumped before turning to see that it was only Jack.

"She's working here? A girl from Powell is working _here?"_ Jack asked in a hushed tone.

"Yep, it would seem so," John said.

"Hot and blonde, I was right," Jack said, brushing his knuckles against his jumper and looking quite chuffed.  

John scoffed.  "She's... She's beautiful."

Jack smiled.  "Look at you.  Smitten already.  Gonna ask her out?"

Shocked, John snapped out of his thoughts.  "Of course not!  She's foreign, she'll just... She'll just leave."

Jack watched his friend.  "Or you'll leave with her and do good in other parts of the world."

"We're getting a little ahead of ourselves, don't you think?" John snapped. 

Jack shrugged.  "Maybe.  But you like her, and you should give it a chance.  You never know what could happen."

John regarded her carefully.  She was very special.  "You never know," he replied.


	4. Chapter 4

Rose's first class the next day was an art sort of workshop that was said to be very 'low key' between the students and the professor.  She had made sure she was dressed in clothes that weren't necessarily very nice, though part of her had to admit that she didn't' know what sort of clothes were 'nice' around where she was.  She was used to gowns and people dressed finely at all times, but perhaps that was just where she lived.  

The first rule of the class was that no one was allowed to talk.  Rose opened her mouth to greet her professor and he held a finger up.  He whispered, "When the work begins, our lips fall silent." He said.  And Rose nodded, not understanding at all. 

Sensing her confusion, he smiled at her.  "I'm going to tell everyone their assignment and then we'll be quiet until class is dismissed," he said as other students started filing in.  "You're the student from Powell, correct?"

Rose nodded, smiling.  "I'm Rose Tyler."

"It's lovely to meet you, Miss Tyler. I'll explain everything to the whole class.  I know this is a new experience for you.  Take a seat wherever you like."

Rose barely restrained herself from curtsying before she went to find a seat at one of the tables which would hold about four people.  There were stools instead of regular chairs, painted with different designs and patterns.  She looked at the one with a garden sprawled across it and blinked.  A name was on it.  It appeared that previous students had decorated the stools that the current students would sit on.

She sat on the garden stool, near the back corner of the room.  The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself, just in case.  Part of her wanted to call Sarah Jane and make her talk to her until she was calm, but she knew that Sarah Jane was really only here for 'just in case' and she was sort of here on holiday while Rose studied. 

Rose blew out a breath and looked at the supplies that had already been laid out for her table.  A large piece of paper, charcoal, and drawing pencils, only a single HB one among the rest.  She supposed they were supposed to share.  

She wasn't used to sharing, being that she was an only child and the one of monarchs, at that. This could be character building, she reminded herself, and smoothed out her t-shirt.  People didn't seem to gravitate to the table she sat at until a boy a couple years older than her sat down across from her. 

"You're the student from Powell," he said, a cocksure grin on his face. 

"How does everyone know that?" Rose asked, furrowing her brows.  A teacher knowing was one thing.  Somehow, _John_ knowing was one thing. This random man?  What did he want with her, or where she came from?  She was afraid, for a moment, that he knew who she was and was about to exploit her for personal gain. It wouldn't be the first time. She swallowed hard. 

"Word travels fast. And word was that you were going to be beautiful.  Powell is home to some of the most beautiful people on the planet, you know."

Rose blushed, looking away from the boy and straightening the paper on her desk.  "Well, I didn't know that we were known for that."

"Even if you weren't, you would be now." he said smoothly.  "What's your name?"

She met his gaze again. "Rose.  And you?"  For some reason she couldn't place, she didn't feel comfortable giving this man her full name.

"Rose.  Beautiful," he gushed, and she resisted the urge to narrow her eyes at him.  he smiled again.  "I'm Jimmy.  Jimmy Stone.  I'm in a band."

"Oh.  Good for you," Rose said, unimpressed. She had been courted by dukes and scholars, a boy in a band was not really something that held a lot of interest for her.  Though somehow, her mind drifted to John once more as she thought through the men who had tried to woo her in the past.  He was different. 

The man in front of her snapped her attention back.  "I think we should go out sometime," he said bluntly.

Rose opened and shut her mouth, feeling fury build behind her jaw.  That was so _rude,_ so _forward,_ and it repulsed her.  "No, I don't think so."

"This is your first year in university, yes?" 

"Yes." 

"Well, I'm a couple years older than you then.  Could probably get you more attention, if that's what you wanted."

Rose frowned.  "Well, to be quite honest with you, more attention is the last thing I want, since everyone already seems to know exactly who I am."  She knew no one but Sarah Jane knew _exactly,_ and she intended to keep it that way.  No one needed to know she was Princess.  Especially not this Jimmy Stone.

"Well, that's too bad."

"You must like art," Rose said sharply, blatantly changing the subject. 

He blinked hard, startled by the change of pace in their conversation.  It wasn't her best conversation skill, but she panicked.  A slow smile crawled across his face.  "I hate it," he said, his voice low and seductive. She supposed it was supposed to be seductive anyway.  Had she been attracted to him, it very well might have been. As it were, she found herself trying nto to wrinkle up her nose at the thought of him trying to seduce her.

"Why are you in the class, then?" She demanded, picking up a pencil.

"To get credits," he said, "I'm not doing well in school, I'm sort of a rebel," he straightened his jacket, as if that itself made him a rebel.  She actually did wrinkle her nose at that.

"Well, I actually plan to get good grades, so you needn't talk to me if you're looking for rebellion," she said shortly, twirling the pencil between her fingertips.

He reached out with one hand and took hers, making her drop the pencil. "You have beautiful hands," he said softly, "Artist's hands."

She pulled her hand back from him. "Don't touch me," she said harshly.  He seemed surprised and pulled back, shrugging as though it wasn't a big deal at all that she'd just rejected him. 

Rose, although strong in her words and how she reacted to Jimmy, felt her heart pounding heavily in her chest.  He had scared her, and she really couldn't say why. it was a guy instinct feeling that she had never really had before.  

"Alright, class, everyone take your seats," the professor said, holding his hands up.  He smiled warmly at them all as the last stragglers sat down, none of them at the table where Jimmy sat with Rose, making her frustration mount even higher. Well, at least they weren't supposed to talk. 

The professor assigned them to use the class time to simply draw something that they found beautiful.  Rose set about drawing an observatory that had been built into their castle when she showed an interest in the stars.  If asked, she had a plan to say it was simply a place from home, and not elaborate further. 

She was proud of her drawing, loved the silence, save for the scratch of pencils on paper, and when the professor called time, she somehow felt at peace.  Until she saw what Jimmy had drawn. 

It was an excellent likeness of her own face and body, bent over her paper as she had been the entire class. She looked up at Jimmy with what she knew was a look of a shock.  He winked and it sent a wave of dread through her. 

She practically ran from the classroom and any other classes she had that day went by in one large blur.

****

She didn't tell anyone what had happened, not even Martha, mostly because she felt that she was just being foolish.  She prepared herself for work, as she would have the same shift every night except when she was off on Saturdays and Sundays, and left without saying another word. 

John worked a lot too, as he was trying to pay for his tuition, and smiled warmly when he saw Rose enter.  "Hello," he called, and she actually paused to smile at him. 

"Are you alright?" he followed her back into the back room.  

She nodded and ran a hand through her hair.  "Yeah.  It's just been a long day."

"First day of classes can be hard," John agreed. "I would... I would give you a hug, but I don't know how people in Powell respond to that sort of-"

He was cut off when she wrapped her arms around his waist.  He sighed and wrapped his arms around her back.  "I know it's stressful, especially with a job," he said, almost into her hair.  "But you'll be alright, get into the swing of things.  Before you know it, we'll have Christmas break, all sorts of fun things cropping up."

She nodded against his chest and pulled back, her heart thundering again, but not out of fear. "Sorry, I'm just wasting time," She said, a little embarrassed.  "i know I have a lot to learn."

"This is also your first time being away from home, and your family," John said softly, "Your first job.  It's hard, Rose, I know it is.  But I also know that you'll be alright, because from what I've seen, you're really quite brilliant."  he cleared his throat, as if he hadn't meant to say that at all, really. "I- We've got drunks to serve. I'll teach you martinis tonight."

Rose was really rather good at mixing drinks, which she supposed her mother wouldn't be thrilled to hear, but she couldn't be bothered to care.  She was having fun.  John made her laugh with every comment he made to a customer, every time he showed off just a little too much.

Most of the men that came to the bar were kind and treated her like a daughter or sister, but there were also many times throughout the night that she was leered at and whistled at.  Each advance was shut down severely by John with a stern glare and word, and that was all it took.  They shut up and most of the time, slunk away.  But some stayed just to stare at her, which made her feel more than a bit uncomfortable.  She often slid behind John to do her work so that they would be staring at him and not her. 

It was a slower night, and soon most people were eating at the tables and not wanting to be served at the bar at all. Rose stood leaning on the bar while John mixed a drink for himself.

"Are you driving?"

"No," She replied, then eyed his glass.  "Are you?"

He chuckled and shook his head.  "No," he said, "I was going to ask if you'd like a drink. Just one, mind you, we still need to be somewhat coherent to work here."

Rose giggled and felt a spark of excitement at the idea of John making her a drink.  She nodded.  "Yes, I would like a drink."

"Brilliant!  What would you like?" 

"Whatever you want to make," she replied, turning to face him.

He cocked an eyebrow.  "Well, I'll make one just for you, then," he said firmly, as though that was the end of that.

She smiled and watched him set his own drink aside and start to mix another one.  He looked over at her.  "Well, you can't look. I'll tell you what's in it after," he told her. She rolled her eyes and looked away, watching the people bustling in the restaurant.  She was glad that she wasn't a server, that she got to stay here with John all night.  She hoped her was never promoted, and that he never left. 

"Alright, done," His voice startled her voice from her thought and she took the drink he offered her. It was pink and looked to be a little fizzy.  She eyed him carefully, wondering if he'd just given her soda, and took a sip of it.  Her eyes widened and she looked at him.  

"All right, what is it?" She asked.

He smiled, "Strawberries, one, and I repeat, one, shot of vodka, soda water, and pina colada syrup," he said, "Kind of like a daiquiri, but I'm not trying to get you sloshed," he said.  

She smiled and took another sip of it.  "Did you just make this up?"

"Just for you," he replied cheerfully, and somehow, the thought of that made her chest bloom with warmth.  

"Thank you," she said sincerely.

"Of course," he replied, as though 'of course' he would make her a drink, and probably would again if she asked.

"Do you live on campus?" She asked, sort of out of nowhere.  

"No," he shook his head, "I live with a friend in a flat off campus."  he swirled his own drink in his glass. "Say, do you have anything to do tomorrow after work?"

She thought for a moment.  She'd have to call Sarah Jane and check in at the end of the night... Or she could just call her right after work and pretend she was going to bed, because she had an idea on what John was about to invite her to.  "No, I don't have anything to do," she said.  Even if she had homework, she could get it done.  She was sure of it.

"Great, because there's this party-" (she knew it) "-and I hate parties, but my flatmate Jack is making me go.  Would you like to come with me?"

She beamed and nodded.  "Yes, I'd love to."

"Great!  We can, uh, change here, after work, and then go up together?  I get my car back from the shop tomorrow afternoon."

She agreed and the looked away from each other for a few moments before slipping back into easy conversation.

As many times as she repeated that it wasn't a date, she smile through her phone call to Sarah Jane that night (though of course she didn't tell her) and was still fluttering with happiness as she fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Of course, Rose had never been to a party.  She'd been to cotillions and balls and such, but she'd never been to a party.  She didn't know what they drank or ate at parties, but she did know that she had a dress to wear that night.

Martha had advised her to go to classes for that day with no makeup on so that when it was done for the party, it would look fresher.  Rose asked if there was a specific way to do makeup for a party and Martha's eyes nearly popped out of her head before she demanded that she be allowed to take care of it the second Rose got back.

She, of course, agreed.

And because she agreed, that night she was sat down in Martha's desk chair, and had gold eye shadow, winged eyeliner, and perfect blush pink lipstick on her face.  The second Martha applied the final touches of mascara, she beamed at Rose.

"Look at you," she gushed, "You're so pretty."

Rose blushed and smiled before glancing in the mirror Martha held up for her.  She felt more than saw her jaw drop slightly.

"Oh, my God," she breathed, "I've never looked like this."

"You're welcome," Martha sand, throwing the mascara in the makeup bag.  She fluffed Rose's hair and gestured to her closet, "Go pick your dress out, and then you'll be ready."

Rose got to her feet but swayed nervously, "Are you sure you don't want to come with me?  I'm sure I could invite you," she said insistently.

Martha grinned.  "I need to study. You're still in that blissful place where you don't really need to do that.  Besides, John invited you because he wanted to spend time with you.  Got that?"

Rose nodded. "I'm not supposed to... I mean... He's a very nice man.'

"You like him," Martha said, wagging a finger at her.

"Oh, hush," Rose said, walking to her closet and pulling out the blue dress with pink details.  She held it up for Martha to see.  "Good?" She asked a little anxiously.

"Brilliant," Martha said excitedly, "It's lovely, Rose."

She paused, "I can't wear my makeup like this to work."

"Yes you can, live your life, Rose.  He won't be able to keep his eyes on you."

Rose blew out her cheeks and carefully folded up the desk to slide into her bag with her black heels.  "Okay.  If you say so.  But I'm still going to be embarrassed."

Martha laughed, "Everything embarrasses everyone, really.  It's getting over it that makes you a confident person."  

Rose smiled, a little wistfully, at that.  "Thank you, Martha. You are truly a good friend."

Her friend returned her warm smile.  "Anytime.  Now, you go on and get ready for work, and you tell me every detail of that party when you get back, you understand me?"

Rose giggled and nodded, knowing she really didn't have much choice in the matter.  

She walked into work with her head down, not wanting anyone to see the gaudy makeup on her eyes. She'd felt confident in her room, but the second she was in public she felt self conscious and stupid.  It was almost foolish, how odd she felt.

John called out to her as she was going to the back to get her apron, and she turned her face to him, knowing that she looked very sheepish.  His mouth opened slightly and his eyes widened.  "Hello," he said, sounding suddenly shy.

"I know, I know, I've never been to a party, so my roommate wanted me to look... I don't know, glamorous or something."

"Well, mission accomplished," John smiled.  "You look lovely," he said, sounding like he was completely genuine in those words. 

She smiled shyly.  "Thank you."  And with that, she ducked into the back room, blushing too hard for him to still be looking at her.  She finished getting ready for work and slid behind the bar next to John, falling right into mixing drinks. 

It wasn't really that hard, mixing drinks, and she was actually getting very good at it.   She was able to chat with the customers with ease and they talked back to her as if they had known her for ages.

What she missed were John's gazes at her, soft smiles and long looks as he seemed to be in awe of her.  When she smiled, he felt his stomach flip and his heart beat so fast he felt like he had two.  He swallowed hard, trying to control himself.  She was from _Powell,_ for God's sake.  She was probably not looking for a relationship, least of all with him.  

He scratched the back of his neck and went back to the customer that he had been sort of ignoring.  She was distracting, in a good way of course, but distracting none the less.  She had lovely hands and when her lips were filled in with the lipstick he had to admit that her mouth was very lovely as well.

And her _eyes._ He usually didn't care about makeup for women, it wasn't a big deal to him, but something about the glitter on her eyelids brought out the whiskey color of her irises and he couldn't say he understood it, and he was the man who was supposed to understand everything.  

She, however, was oblivious to all of this.  She just smiled widely at the customers as she mixed their drinks, and they asked her where she was from, and she was all too happy to tell them. 

"Powell?  You're a long way from home, sweetheart," one of the older men she was serving said, looking a little worried for her. 

 Rose lifted a shoulder.  "I came here to go to university," she told him.  "There is nothing that can put a price on a good education."

"I'll drink to that, Miss Tyler," the man said, his eyes crinkling with his smile.  Rose curtsied and of course, the men took it as a joke and chuckled a bit, but she didn't mind.  She knew that things were different here, even though they were a monarchy here in Great Britain.  She couldn't bring it in herself to dislike anything about the place, really.

***

After the bar closed, Rose went to the bathroom to get changed and when she emerged, John was loosening the buttons on his shirt, perhaps to look a bit more low key, and wore lighter wash jeans.  She wondered how he had changed so fast but didn't think to actually bring it up to him. She smiled, a little awkwardly, when she walked back into the room, her bag over her shoulder.  

"For someone who hasn't ever been to a party, you know exactly how to dress for one," John said, but his eyes were firmly planted on her face.

"Where is the party?" Rose asked, tugging down the short skirt.  She was used to gowns, and even in the jeans she was fully covered.  It was almost like her armor, made her feel safe in a way that this outfit did not.  Even though there were sleeves, a lot of her back was revealed and so were her legs.  She'd looked in the mirror and felt a little uncomfortable, but was happy that the skirt flowed and wasn't clingy, sticking to her legs and shaping out her lower half in a way that left nothing to the imagination.  She fluffed the slightly puffy skirt a little bit at the thought.

"It's near my flat, actually, at a real house, though.  A simple house party, really, with a bunch of people from university.  It's supposed to be low key, but I haven't been to a party since my first year at Uni."

"Oh, well," Rose wrung her hands a little, "Maybe it won't be too bad, then," she said, smiling, "I'm a little nervous."

"Ah, don't worry, you'll fit right in," he said, and crooked his elbow for her.  She smiled at the chivalry and slid her arm through his, letting him lead her out of the bar and to his car.

His car, 'Old Bessie' as he called it, was a yellow convertible with blue decals, and Rose had to smile at it, as it was a charming, if odd and very old, car.  He opened the passenger door for her and she slid in as she had been taught when she was very young and murmured her thanks. 

He looked at her curiously, a little surprised by her grace and poise, even if she was from Powell, and came around the other side to get in the driver's side.  

"She runs a little rough," he admitted, "But she hadn't failed me yet... Well, except for the fact that I just had her in the shop."

Rose giggled.  "I'm sure it'll be just fine," she said, "I've never been in a convertible," realizing what she said, she blushed and glanced over at him in the dark.  "You know, It sounds like I've never done anything, but although I am a bit sheltered, I do other things then sit around and twiddle my thumbs."

John couldn't hold in the snort from escaped from his mouth.  "I'm sorry.  But, Rose, I never thought you were sheltered at all," he started up the car and started driving.  The noise was such that they really couldn't talk to each other in the car, but Rose was really having fun just riding in the car with him next to her.

She wasn't sure what connected her to him so much, what made her want to know everything about him and what made her want to spill her secrets to him.  Something about him made her want to tell him that she was a princess and she didn't know why.  She supposed some people were just special like that.

They pulled up to a house with all the lights on and the bass of the music already thumping wildly.  

"You can leave your bag under the seat, I'll drive you home," John said, "I don't drink at these things."

"Okay, sure," Rose shoved her bag where he had told her to, sort of happy that she didn't have money in it anyway.  Even though she trusted John, she wasn't sure who else she trusted in this city.  

He seemed nervous as well, as he reached out for her hand.  Since her heart was galloping in her chest, she reached out to slide her hand into his, their fingers lacing together.  She'd never held hands with a boy, and she found the prospect absolutely thrilling, especially when his thumb stroked over hers.  

"Alright then, let's go," he said nervously, and they headed for the door. 

The second they entered the room, a man launched himself at Rose, wrapping his arms around her. Rose squeaked in shock and he pulled back. 

"Jack," John said warningly.

The man, Jack, Rose supposed, winked at her and smiled. "I'm Jack Harkness.  Nice to meet you."

"Rose Tyler."

"Lovely name for a lovely girl."

She blushed.  "Oh, well, thank you," but she tucked closer to his side as she heard Jack speak.  He seemed very, very nice, but John seemed on edge by his presence. 

"This is my roommate, Rose," John explained, extending his free hand to Jack.  

"Oh!" Rose said brightly, her posture relaxing.  "Well, it's nice to meet you."

"Are you two planning on mingling at all?" Jack asked, waggling his eyebrows.  "John remember you don't need to drive home."

"Uh, yes I do, actually," John said, scratching the back of his neck.  "I'm driving Rose home."

"Ohh," Jack winked and Rose didn't really understand... Oh.  Yes she did.  It just took her a moment. 

She blushed deeply.  "Not... I mean-"

"We aren't," John stuttered over her, "That is to say-"

"Oh, God, you both need shots.  Listen, just loosen up, John I'll steal your keys. If you're still stone sober when you leave, you can drive Rose home, okay?"

Realizing he wasn't going to win this particular battle, John rolled his eyes and tossed his keys to Jack.  "Are you happy now?" He asked. 

Jack pocketed the keys. "Extremely.  Go have fun, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"That doesn't give us many limitations," John called wryly after his friend, which earned him a wink and a playful shake of the shoulders from Jack. 

Rose nudged her shoulder against his.  "So what are we supposed to do?" She asked. 

He smiled down at her.  "Well, let's have a chat with some people, see if there's dancing, and if you're bored we can go.  That alright?"

Rose nodded, feeling that she would be happy as long as he was by her side.  "Sounds brilliant."

With that, he gave her a wide smile and led her into the crowd.


	6. Chapter 6

Rose felt her hands shaking a bit as John led her into the mass of moving bodies, some dancing, some drinking out of large plastic cups, and some just standing, the awkward wallflowers coming out to play.  She wasn't abject to drinking, and she was almost hoping that John would offer her something to drink.

He seemed confused though, and she knew that he wasn't really well versed in the 'party scene'.  But they kept walking, and Rose called out to be heard, "How far is your flat from here?"

"Not very," he called back, "I could walk home."

"Well, that must be nice," she said conversationally, coming up to walk right next to him.  He glanced down at her and then let his gaze flit away from her.  She smiled her herself for a moment, and had a feeling that he was attracted to her, and somehow, the fact that he had some sort of feeling for 'just Rose' and not 'Princess Rose' made her heart swell. 

"Do you want something to eat?" He asked. 

"Sure," she replied and he nodded, seeming to come to a decision.  "Uh, there's usually pizza at things like this."

"What?"

"Pizza," they neared a table with all kinds of party trays laid out, cheeses and chips and an untouched vegetable tray.

"Yes, I heard you.  What?" She repeated.

"Are you-" He turned towards her, "Have you never had pizza before?" he asked, a little puzzled. 

She shook her head, smiling a little bit.  "No, I haven't.  I don't live in a part of Powell that has it, it seems."

John scoffed, "Everywhere has pizza, you've just got to know where to look for it."  He glanced to a closed cardboard box on the end of the table.  "Ah!" he said happily, "Here we go."

Pizza, Rose discovered, was quite possibly the best things she'd ever eaten.  She took a bite out of it and looked at John, her eyes wide.  He let out a bark at laughter and picked up a slice of his own.  

"You like it?" he asked, though the asking was kind of irrelevant because it was very clear she liked it. She giggled at his question and nodded. 

"Yeah," she said, taking another bite.  John smiled and repressed the urge to draw her into a hug.

After they ate, the both of them started to mingle, John introducing Rose to some of the people there that were from their university.  They were all very interested in finding out that Rose was from Powell, and Rose found it rather funny that while they were all interested in her being foreign, nobody was talking about her family.  Did they really not know who she was? The thought was a little surprising, but then again, it was actually rather nice that John didn't know who she was.  She was afraid that if he knew, it would change everything between them, and she didn't want things to change.  He was so kind and he was clever and she found herself nearly obsessed with him.  

She had flirted with plenty of men but none made her feel quite like John did, and he wasn't even really flirting.  But somehow, that was almost what made it different. He wasn't going right after her, which was the most honorable thing she'd seen a man do in awhile.  

"So, Powell, right," one man said, staring at Rose, and already half drunk. "How's everything there?" 

Rose bit back a giggle.  The guy was clearly inebriated and he even seemed confused at his own words.  He wavered forward and John stepped closer to Rose's side, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.  Rose unconsciously leaned in his side and smiled politely at the man who had been talking to her. 

"Powell is lovely, thanks," Rose said.

"You gonna go home for Christmas?" One of the man's sober friends asked.

Rose shook her head, her hair brushing John's shoulder.  "No, I don't think so.  I won't be going home until the summer."

She felt John squeeze her shoulder at that and she turned to smile at him.  His eyes were very open and she found herself wondering what he was thinking.  He smiled back at her, his laugh lines crinkling up.  

"Do you wanna dance, Rose?" the drunk man asked. 

"No, thank you," Rose replied, "I'll just hang out for a little bit."

The man seemed a little disappointed but let her go.  John let his arm slip from her shoulders and she felt a little bereft without his touch there.  She followed him into another room. 

"Do you want to dance?" He asked, and it was more of a casual question than a request.  

She shrugged. "I don't know how to dance like they do here," she said, gesturing to the crowd in the living room. "I only know traditional dances," she admitted.  "I don't know how to d anything else."

He seemed to think for a minute.  "Well, how about you teach me how they dance where you're from?" He asked, "We can go out in the backyard."

Rose felt her heart lift with happiness as a smile crawled across her face.  "Really?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'd love to learn," he said enthusiastically, and she laughed and nodded.

"Okay, I'll teach you how to dance," she said, "Lead the way."

He lead her out of the house onto a back porch with fairy lanterns strewn along the railings.  Other than that there wasn't a whole lot of visibility into the house or out of the house.  She shifted her skirts and glanced up at him.  "Okay," she said, and held her arms out for him.  He stepped forward, a little unsure, and she grabbed one of his hands to set on her waist.  She placed her hand on his shoulder and then held up her other hand for his.  He took her hand gently.  

"I'll lead you for the first bit," She said softly, sensing the mood that had settled between them and deciding to follow along with it. She beamed up at him and stepped forward, encouraging him to step back.  He did and looked down at their feet, following the motions she was setting. She hummed a little under her breath, creating her own tune that wasn't the obnoxious and sultry bass from inside the house.  

He caught on easily, and his movements were graceful and smooth. She quickened her pace, and he followed her with only a few stumbles, laughing to himself whenever he tripped up.  His hand flexed against her waist and he held her closer.  She shivered a bit at that, and he didn't even seem to register it.  He was focused on what they were doing.

"Usually, the women wear long, sweeping skirts.  Ballgowns.  At least where these dances happen," she said as they moved about the deck.  

"So, where''s that then, weddings?" He asked.

She smiled.  "No.  Tuesdays."

He laughed softly and she admired the way the light cast across his face.  He was beautiful, and she'd never thought that about a man before. He had a very intent look on his face, like he was trying to concentrate, so he wasn't really looking at her.  

"Okay, now let's try this one."  She said.  She showed him a faster dance, more like a swing dance, and they were both panting for breath when they finished that one.  He seemed to be quite enjoying it.  

"Which dance is that?" He asked breathlessly.

"Saturday night," she laughed.  "There's always a reason to celebrate, John.  To be excited.  To have a party.  You just have to find it."

He seemed to consider this. "You know, I rather think you're right," he agreed.  "Show me another."

"This is the dance we do at weddings," she said.  He held him closer than she had on the first dance and he followed along.  "The idea is to trust the person you're dancing with.  Trust they won't step on your feet or let you fall-" and the moment she said fall she collapsed her knees so he was forced to catch her in a dip.  He gasped but his arms went around her easily and he brought her back up.

"So you trust me?" He asked her, meeting her gaze.

Without hesitation, she nodded.  "You hired me, and you keep drunk people from propositioning me.  It's really quite good of you, actually."

He chuckled. "Well, I'm really very glad that you trust me.  You came to this party with me, after all."

"I did," she agreed.  "And I'm having a lot of fun.  Thank you."

"I am too," he said, "I don't usually like parties, you know, I usually sit at home and read."

She wrinkled her nose.  "You would do well to socialize then, John."

"Yeah, I would," he agreed. "But I socialize with you, and Jack.  I don't know, I think that's enough for me."

"What about your family?"

"I'm adopted," he told her, "I have a 'mother', Sylvia, and Wilf is my granddad, and I have a sister named Donna."

"Well, that sounds lovely," she said honestly, not wanting to push him into telling her what happened to his family to make him have to be adopted.  

"They're a good family, I've had them for most of my life," he said, still dancing with her.  "But they don't live on campus, so the socializing with them is mostly over phone."

Rose bit her lip, wondering if she should call her family. She nodded. "Still, it's good, isn't it?"

He smiled at her. "Yes.  It's good."

They moved carefully, and John was getting very good at the dance they were currently doing.  She introduced him to an outward spin before she gestured for him to pull her back in.  Soon they were laughed and sweeping confidently around the deck, her legs catching the breeze.  After awhile they just swayed together, talking to each other.  

She looked over his shoulder down into the yard.  "What's that?" She asked, tilting her chin towards the strip of fabric hanging between two trees. 

John turned to see where she was looking and smiled.  "That's a hammock."

"Uh huh.  And what's it for?"

"You lay in it."

She wrinkled her nose. "No you don't."

He laughed, "Yes you do, come here, I'll show you."  He released her and tugged her along towards what she'd noticed and sat down in the middle.  He rolled on his back in it and scooted over to one side and held the fabric taught so that she could get in.  She was a little nervous about it, really, but only hesitated for a moment.  She sat on the edge and tumbled in after him, squeaking as she crashed into his side. 

He shifted so they both had their own space, somehow, but were tucked close together, the sides of the hammock cover up around them.  She wriggled a little and tugged her skirt down.  "I feel like I could fall at any moment,' she said softly. 

"You won't," he replied.  He glanced up.  "Look at the stars," he said softly.

She did, glanced up after him and looked at the stars.  She breathed out softly. "They're clearer, in Powell," she said softly.  

"Really?" John seemed surprised.  "There's less light pollution here, so you can see all the constellations."

"Hmm.  You can see the constellations every night in Powell," she said, "Bright.  Because the streetlights are dimmer, and where I live is a bit ore secluded," she said, leaning her head against his shoulder.   Trying to stay away from him was beginning to make her neck ache.

"I love the stars," he whispered.

She smiled, letting the gentle rocking of the hammock start to lull her.  "I had a feeling," she said teasingly. 

His laughter was a gentle huff and he leaned his head against hers in turn.  It was odd, how easy if felt, how well they seemed to fit together.  She felt herself start to go sleepy and tried to ward it off to listen to him whisper to her about the stars.  His voice rumbled through his chest and she found it very soothing.  It was unbelievably comforting, to have him next to her.  She cuddled up against him as sleep started to settle over her, and his voice started to slow and grow quieter.

To the gentle thump of the bass inside the house, she fell asleep in the comfort of his warmth.


	7. Chapter 7

When Rose woke up, she was surprised to find that she felt very warm and comfortable.  She cuddled deeper into her pillow and furrowed her brows.  She didn't think she had a body pillow.  She _really_ didn't think she had a body pillow.  She stayed still, not wanting to move for some reason.  

And there was a hand on her back.  A hand.  Not her hand.  Someone else's hand.  It coasted over her upper back and then it, too, froze, as though the owner of the hand hadn't realized what it was going.  She tilted her head up at that and stared up at John.  She smiled timidly at him.  

"Hello," he said timidly.

"Hello," she replied, realizing her arm was wrapped around his waist.  She sat up carefully in the hammock and John braced one foot on the ground so she could shift.  She ran her hand through her hair and looked down at him. 

"I guess you were more tired than you thought," John said.

"And so were you," John replied.  He glanced up at the sky.  "It's absolutely morning.  You didn't have classes today, did you?"

"No," Rose replied, shaking her head.  She felt a flush crawl over her.  No matter how innocent it was, she had never been in bed with a man.  Well, in hammock, as it were.  It turned out to be a very comfortable place to sleep.  She did feel very rested after all, but maybe that was just because she had been with John.  She shifted to get to her feet, careful not to throw John onto the ground with her movements.  He got to his feet after her. 

"Would you like to go out for tea, then?" he asked awkwardly.

Rose wrung her hands a little before nodding.  "Well, alright," she said softly, "I don't know any places to eat brunch though."

"I do, don't you worry."  He led her around the side of the house to his car before realizing that Jack still had his keys.  He swore quietly and turned to Rose.  "I'm really sorry, we'll have to walk," he said apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"That's alright," she said, "It'l be nice to rough it a little bit," she smiled. 

He looked a little bemused.  "I'd love to know where you're from."

She winked. "Powell."

"Of course," He rolled his eyes.  "You're an exchange student, but there must be more to know about you."

She shrugged. "I'm really quite boring," she replied, "Really boring.  I mean, _eternally_ boring.  I read and I sew and that's all."

"But you go to the dances," John replied, "You're really interesting," he tugged his ear, "Or, I mean, at least, I think so."  He swallowed hard and she giggled a little. 

"Well, thank you," Rose smiled, "Now lets go eat, then, yeah?  I'm hungry."

They started to move but Rose's mobile ringing startled her.  She picked it up off of the hammock and grimaced. "Oh, it's my... She's supposed to look out for me for my family, I was supposed to call."  She answered.

"Where have you _been,_ Rose Tyler?" Sarah Jane scolded, "You did not call last night, and I gave you a chance to call me, but you didn't!  Where were you all night?"

Rose smiled at the befuddled look on John's face.  "I was at a party," she said softly.

"A _party?_ You went to a party?  Are you safe?"

"Yeah.  I sort of just... Fell asleep before I could call. I didn't drink or anything, I promise," she said, "I don't sound hungover or anything, do I?" She demanded, putting the hand not on her mobile on her hip.

"No, you don't," Sarah Jane huffed.  "But you still should've called, why didn't you call?"

Rose blushed, feeling as though she was always blushing around John and the embarrassment made her color even deeper.  "You know, I'm sometimes _tried,_ that happens sometimes!"  Rose wanted to cross her arms but didn't.  "Okay, sorry," she said, "But I'm fine.  I'll call you tonight."

"We'll meet up for lunch later this week, alright?" Sarah Jane asked, her voice now sounding tired and less like she was going to scream at Rose.  

Rose nodded.  "Okay, sure," she said.  "Talk to you later."

"Alright, Rose."

She hung up and looked at John, feeling like her mother had just reprimanded her.  "I'm sorry about that.  She worries sometimes, on behalf of my parents, of course.  They're a little ridiculous."

John smiled.  "I find that many parents are ridiculous."

She returned the smile tentatively, remembering what he'd told her about his own family.  She fiddled with her mobile and returned her gaze to him. "I thought we were going to brunch?" She said, trying to lighten the mood back up to where it had been before Sarah Jane had so rudely burst in and ruined it. 

Of course, she was a little confused, as nothing had really been _ruined,_ as they weren't dating or anything.

John's eyes crinkled up as he grinned at her.  "Yes, of course," he held his hand out for her.  Rose slid her hand into his and he tightened his hand on hers, as though he wasn't planning on letting go of her any time in the near future.  She didn't really mind.  He seemed to fit perfectly with her, and she felt her heart swell with happiness.  If this was what it was like to be truly happy, she never wanted it to end.  She never wanted to leave London.

****

When Rose got back to her room, Martha practically screamed as she leaped up from where she had been sitting at her desk. "Did you get lucky?" She asked loudly, and Rose winced at the volume level.  She tugged at her dress as she saw Martha staring at her, as of course, she would know that she was wearing the same outfit as the night before.

Rose furrowed her brows and threw her bag (which she had retrieved from John's car) onto her bed.  "I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean," she said.  "I've never heard of that saying."

"Did you and John... Last night-?"  Martha began meaningfully, waving her hand, waiting for Rose to say something that she was waiting for.  It took a moment, but Rose's eyes finally lit up with realization and she gasped.  

Rose felt her cheeks burning.  "Oh, no.  I'm afraid we're both very bad at parties.  We danced, I taught him some dances from where I'm from, and then we laid in this hammock and looked up at the stars, and then we fell asleep."  She shrugged.  "He was really very nice, talking to me and showing me the stars." she dazed out for a moment until Martha spoke again.

"Oh, that's so boring. I was hoping you'd done something exciting," Martha teased, crossing her arms and smiling.

As hard as she might try, she just kept blushing.  "I'm not really- he's very nice, Martha, but I'm not-" She shrugged.  "I dunno.  Easy."

Martha smiled.  "You like him," she said.  "You really like him, and not just because he's attractive." 

"Well, he can't know," Rose said in a panicked voice, frantically tucking her hair behind her ear.  "He doesn't feel the same way, _I know_ he doesn't, and there's no reason he should, we're just mates, that's all, and that's all he'll ever want.  And I can't-I can't- I live in Powell," she finished lamely, not wanting to mention the real reasons she kept her feelings for John at bay.  Her impending queen-dom was the main reason, and no one should know that.  "He's really wonderful.  But there are too many things that prevent me from pursuing anything."  

Martha watched her carefully,  her excitement dipping so that she could address Rose in a more calm manner.  She was trying to be a good friend to the girl, as she genuinely liked her and wanted her to be happy here in London.  "Yeah, that makes sense.  But that doesn't mean you can't have some fun while you're both here, don't you think?  He might be good for you."

"Or things could crash and burn and I could be left hurt or I could hurt him," She rubbed her hands together.  "He's... I don't want to hurt him."

Of course, Martha didn't want to say anything else about it, because Rose seemed anxious as it was, and she was trying to be a good friend about it.  But she could see how happy John made Rose and made a mental note to keep an eye on the situation.

"Well, either way, you'd better go get changed, since you've been wearing that outfit for so long," Martha said, waving her off.

Rose smiled, and rustled to get some clothes before disappearing into the en suite, happy to have a distraction.

****

The days passed in a blur of classes, and long talks with John, and he let her stargaze with him in the park while they lay on his beg trench coat.  She made other friends and went out with them, too, but somehow, the times that she was with John seemed to be the ones that looked forward to most, that she enjoyed the most.  The weather got colder and Rose got better and better at her job and better and better at her schoolwork.  She felt so _happy,_ and she had a feeling it was just what she needed before she returned to Powell.  

One night, they were working late, and Rose was wiping down the bar.  John had been uncharacteristically quiet, washing dishes as music played softly in the background to the workers cleaning up.

"Rose, can I ask you something?" He suddenly asked, sounding a little nervous as he toweled out the glasses and set it on the counter.

She nodded, not looking up from her task.  She had become very specific about cleaning and putting things away, knowing she'd often be the one that had to do it.  She never wanted anybody mad at her for not doing her job well.  "Of course," she said, looking down at her hands.  They weren't roughened from work, but holding the handle to pour the beer didn't hurt her palms anymore.  It made her think that perhaps she had been a little bit too delicate before.  She glanced up at him, waiting for him to answer her.  He seemed to be waiting for something, what, she wasn't sure.  

"Are you going anywhere for Christmas break?" he asked, more like blurted out, not meeting her gaze.

"No," she said, gazing at him curiously, "I can't go home to see my family or anything, it's too far."

John scratched the back of his neck and watched her for a few moments.  She looked at him expectantly, her hand stilling on the rag so she was no longer cleaning, just holding, the soap and water pooling under the rag on the bar. 

"Would you like to come home with me?" John asked, "I'm going to visit my family and I'm sure they'd love you.  And seeing as you have nowhere to go-"

"Sure," Rose smiled, nodding.  She had a feeling he was about to start off on a ramble, as she knew him well enough to know that he did that sort of thing, and was glad she cut him off. So she just answered him honestly.  "I'd love to."

He blinked, his eyebrows raising.  "Really?"

"Yes."

"Oh, well, that's brilliant!  Really, great.  I'll.. I'll text you all the details about it, yeah?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," She said, "When are you leaving?"

"In three days," he said, "I'm sorry about the short notice, I wasn't sure how to ask you, I guess."

Rose felt her heart flutter a little at that.  He had been nervous to ask her.  She smiled, hoping it was a warm and inviting look.  "Okay, I'll make sure I'm packed."

"Alright, Ol' Bessie and I will get you then," he said, grinning from ear to ear.  Rose felt herself giggling.  She nodded. 

"I can't wait," she said, hardly able to keep herself from smiling ear to ear until her face burst.  "I've never really celebrated Christmas with a normal family.  Just my own, and they're a little bit... Stiff."

John nodded, "I understand that. I think you'll enjoy it, I... I hope," He said, and turned away from her, "Yeah.  Yeah, great!"

She smiled softly at his enthusiasm, and at herself.  She wasn't sure what going to John's house with him would entail, but she would be lying if she said if she wasn't excited.  She only wondered what Sarah Jane would think.

He looked over at Rose.  "Thanks," he said softly, like an afterthought. "I think we'll have a lot of fun."

She nodded enthusiastically at him. "I think so, too."


	8. Chapter 8

Rose met up with Sarah Jane for dinner the next night, and needless to say, she was less than enthusiastic about Rose spending Christmas with John.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't' think," Rose bit her lip.  "You'll be lonely, here all by yourself."

Sarah Jane laughed and shook her head.  "You're selfless, Rose, and that's thoughtful of you, but I've got the friend I'm staying with, you needn't worry.  I'm worried about your safety."

"John doesn't live that far away, not really," Rose protested, "I think it would be fine."

"I know you _think_ that Rose, but there are things such as assassination attempts, assaults, you don't even know this boy that well."  Sarah Jane sighed. "I can't stop you.  I know I can't.  But I want you to think about it harder."

Rose shook her head. "No, I've thought about it, and I've known him the whole time I've been here.  He's kind and we'll be with his family, or his adopted one, at least.  That's perfectly safe, don't you think?"

Sarah Jane frowned.  "Not really, Rose.  I don't know this boy, or his family, and you don't even know that he has a family.  For all you know he could be using you, and just making up a family to get you in his house with him. How about that, hm?  How do you know he's not lying?"

She fidgeted with her ring under the table and lifted one shoulder.  "Because I never told him who I was," she whispered, and looked up at Sarah Jane. "I never told him.  He knows I'm from Powell, but he's oblivious to it, just like everyone else.  None of them know.  So how would he be using me?"

Sarah Jane was uneasy, but Rose's eyes were pleading and she knew that her young charge had learned much in her short time in London.  On top of that, she seemed utterly besotted, and part of Sarah Jane wondered if that was the start of something very, very good for the young princess.  But, there were things that needed to be tested.  She had to be serious, make all her decisions like a young monarch should. So she asked the question that Rose had learned to hate whenever she asked something of someone.

"Why do you want to?" Sarah Jane asked.

Rose rolled her eyes.  "Oh, come _on,_ Sarah Jane-"

"Don't you 'oh, Sarah Jane' me," Sarah Jane mimicked.  "You are not behaving like the princess you are, right now.  I'm asking for your reasoning, and that it not expecting too much of you."

Rose sighed, knowing that Sarah Jane was right. She sat up a little straighter and laced her fingers together, setting her hands on the table. "Sarah Jane, I want to go to John's for Christmas because I want to see what it's like to be with a family that is not royal, as I have never done so.  In addition, I am quite fond of John and would very much like to see where he comes from."  

Sarah Jane regarded Rose carefully and could tell that she was sincere.  She nodded slowly.  "Alright, you can go, but you still call!  That doesn't stop just because you're traipsing around with some man in the countryside, alright?"

Rose nodded, beaming.  "Of course.  Sarah Jane, have you had these?  They're called 'chips'."

****

They would be traveling back to John's in Old Bessie, who was up and running and going rather smoothly, considering.  Rose carried her smallest suitcase packed with things to wear that she hoped would impress John's family, at least a little bit.  Martha had been ridiculously excited to see Rose off, and made her promise to text and call with information.  It took Rose a few moments to realize what 'information' meant, but when she got it, she blushed and nodded, saying that nothing was going to have happen anyway, so that was pointless.  Martha seemed to have other ideas about the whole thing, though.

He picked her up at her dorm and a bunch of girls watched her leave, wondering when she had gotten so lucky to get John Smith.  Nobody had been able to pull him since he'd started uni, and that wasn't for lack of trying on the young ladies' part.  

Rose, however, had seemed to worn her way right into his heart, which confused all of the others.  They asked Martha, who just shrugged.  Rose was just charming, she supposed, but there must have been something else that was more special about her.  

"Hello," John said, bolting out of his car to take her bag from her.  She smiled and thanked him as he put it in the trunk with his bag.  The sight of his things next to hers made her stomach flip, and she wasn't sure why.  It wasn't like they were in any sort of domestic relationship.   

He opened her car door and she slid in, buckling her seat belt and thanking him again when he shut her door.  He simply beamed at her and got into the car again, starting up the engine.  

Since his car was a convertible, it was really quite exciting.  She hadn't gone very far in it when they had gone to the party, so this was different.  It was a proper trip, like they were a couple going home for the holidays.

She forced herself to shake that thought from her head.  She did not belong to John, and he did not belong to her.  They were simply two mates visiting his home because she had no where to go.  She should simply be grateful and not try to make something out of it that wasn't there.  

"We're about an hour out," John said as he pulled away from her dorm.  She waved over her shoulder at some of her friends before turning to him. 

"That's not too bad," She said, smiling.

"Nah, not at all.  I think it's gonna be a walk in the park compared to your trip up here."

Rose nodded.  "Yes, definitely," she agreed.  She found herself suddenly nervous and turned to John, opening her mouth to ask a question and then closing it.  She did that once more before finally asking, "You don't think your family is going to hate me or anything, do you?"

John gave her an odd look and replied, "Of course not.  Why would they hate you?"

Rose shrugged. "I don't know. They might think I'm odd or something. I don't know.  I've never spent Christmas with someone else's family."  

"Me either," John said, "But I know my family, and if they were going to adopt me and make me theirs, I have a feeling they'll do the same thing to you.  Well, figuratively of course.  I don't think they'll be getting out adoption papers for you. Well, at any rate, it's unlikely."  He scrunched up his nose as though he'd confused himself. 

She giggled.  "Well, I should hope not.  I think my mother and father might take that as a shock," she said, leaning back in her seat.  She looked up at the sky, the breeze pushing through her hair.  

John wanted to watch her, because she was just so pleasant to look at, but he had to also watch the road, which was a bit frustrating for himself.  He also wanted to hold her hand over the gear shift but figured she would not take kindly to that.  He didn't' know what she would take kindly to.  Did she want him in the way that he was learning to want her?  

Her trust, in falling asleep on him in the hammock, was something that tugged nearly violently at his heart and he simply did not want to let her go.  She wasn't going anywhere, he assured himself, as much as people left him, she wasn't going to.  Except when she went home, of course...  She was leaving.  Just like everyone else.  He felt his jaw set, and he almost closed himself off from her, but he glanced over. 

No, he couldn't push her away.  She was there, and he was going to keep her with him as long as he could.  He relaxed and focused on the driving, remembering that she was coming home with him.   _Him!"_

He knew she'd gotten attention from other men, especially a particularly enthusiastic guy named Jimmy.  She had told John about him, a look of discomfort on her face, and John had promised that he wouldn't let anything happen to her.  And he wouldn't.  He felt protective of her, and as much as those feelings scared him, he thought that perhaps they made him stronger as well. 

Rose opened her eyes and looked at the road before her.  "I think I'm still a little nervous," she said, picking up their conversation.

"Oh, there's no reason to be nervous," John said, "I think you'll be fine.  You're very polite and you don't swear like a sailor.  So, really, they must like you. They'll have to.  I'll make them."

Rose laughed, a loud burst that he had never heard from her before.  She looked over at him, her eyes dancing.  "Oh, you'll make them, will you?  Big tough guy, you are," she teased. 

He winked at her.  "Of course."

While they talked, John slipped in bits about Donna, how she was loud but kind, and his adoptive mother and grandfather, how they all had good relationships with each other and therefore fit together very well.  

Rose was looking forward to it, looking forward to a family that wasn't royal and wore gowns and tuxes to dinner, tiaras and crowns perched on their heads.  She had a picture in her mind of what his family would be like, how they would treat her. She had visions of what she'd seen on television, a family happily together, smiling and dealing with domestic struggles. 

That might not be what she wanted all the time though, even if it was a nice thought.  She wanted a family, but she wanted to be queen, to take care of her country like her family had done for generations.  It was hard to make decisions like this when she was so young.  And he was so wonderful.  

It seemed to take ages to get there, and halfway through the ride he noticed that she was getting cold and handed her a sweater he had in the backseat.  So they pulled up to his house, which was a quaint three level thing in a neighborhood of small farms, and she was still in his jumper with her own jeans and tennis shoes.  She didn't even notice really, with as comfortable as she now was.  She tried to get her bag out of the back and he batted her hands away.

"I'll get it," he said, reaching for her bag.

"No, no, John," she laughed and the two of them began with a play tussle over the suitcase.  She giggled and reached one hand around to tickle his side.  He grunted and shifted away from her, reaching out to grab her waist and tug her against him as well as he could with her suicase still between them.

"Oh, come on, let me," he pleaded.  "I'm trying to be a gentleman."

She smiled, her free hand laying on his chest.  "I want you to be able to say hello to your family John, and hug them like everyone should with their family at Christmas."

John's hand moved up to her back, still in very, _very_ safe territory. A little to safe, if Rose was honest.  He smiled down at her.  "I'll tell you what, then, you hug them for me."

"John, they don't know me," she protested.

"With as much as I talk about you, they'd better know you," he teased.  "I do have friends, Rose, I promise, but you just happen to be the one I spend the most time with."

She smiled, resisting the urge to burrow into his chest, as the chill was starting to settle in again.  "Well, you're the one I spend the most time with."

He rubbed her back once more (Over _his_ jumper, no less) and pulled away.  He tried to take her bag and she sighed, reluctantly letting him.  "John," she said, drawing out the syllable. 

"Rose," he replied.  "Please?  Let me?"

She looked up at him.  "Well, alright.  Thank you."

He bent forward and kissed her cheek, seeming shocked by his own actions once he pulled back.  He skipped off towards the front door and left her surprised self to follow.  He had both their bags and she was afraid that his family would think she was a slacker. 

"Alright," he said winking at her before ringing the doorbell.  "Allons-y!"


	9. Chapter 9

The ruckus that followed sent Rose almost into shock.  A fiery redheaded woman threw open the door and let out a cry.  "John's home and he brought a girl!" She shouted, and reached forward to shake Rose's hand. 

"I'm Donna, John's sister, oh my God, you're real!"

Rose blushed and looked over to find that John was doing much the same.  Donna quickly drew Rose's attention though, as she started chattering again. "You know, the last time we met a girl that John was talking to, it was this French lady and it was his last year of high school.  How _wild_ is that?"

" _Donna,"_ John blushed even darker red and Rose found herself smiling.  Something about that thought was very endearing and she grinned over at him, giggling a little when he wouldn't meet her gaze.

"Oh, shut up, Spaceman, and let your girlfriend come in."

"Oh, we aren't-"

Donna tugged Rose in by her hand and John followed with their bags. He set them down by the steps and followed Rose and Donna through the cozy house to the kitchen.  Rose tried to take everything in as she looked around, the family pictures (not portraits) and smiling baby pictures and little Christmas knick knacks.  

An older woman stood over the stove and turned around, sliding off her oven mitts and coming over to Rose.  "Oh, hello," She said, taking Rose's hands.  Rose dipped into a shallow curtsy and the woman shook her head. 

"No, none of that," she grinned, "I know you're from Powell, but we're like family here, don't you worry.  I'm Sylvia and the old sod that's about to come in here is Wilf, you can call him Gramps _or_ Wilf, he doesn't care."

"I'm Rose."

"Oh, we've heard all about you."

Rose blinked.  "You have?"

"Mum!" John was still blushing quite wildly.  He looked around at anything but her and Rose smiled fondly at him. He was incredibly sweet to be so concerned about what she would think about this whole situation.  

Rose adjusted John's jumper across her waist and smiled.  "It's really quite lovely to meet all of you."

"Well, you're just in time, Rose, dinner's almost ready," Donna shouted. "Why don't you show her the tree, John?  We're gonna all decorate it tonight."

Rose felt her face lit up as John took her hand and led her from the kitchen towards the living room.  It was still quite loud when they left and both of them were quiet for a few moments before John said, "I'm sorry about them.  They're a bit much."

"I think they're lovely."

He blinked. "You do?  They were sort of all up in your space, don't you think?"

"I love my parents," she said cautiously, "But I don't get a lot of attention like that at home.  It's nice."  She squeezed his hand.  "And I've never decorated a tree before."

"Oh, well, then, Rose Tyler, you are in for a treat."  He beamed over at her, his embarrassment completely forgotten.  "We have homemade and store bought ornaments.  I think you might enjoy yourself."

"I know I will!" She laughed.  She looked around, "So wait, do you have animals?"

"Chickens and a couple cows.  Oh, and three horses," He laughed, "I feel like we live in the middle of nowhere.  But it's just a little farm, a few animals."

"Horses?" She felt herself perk up at that.

"You like them?"

"I've ridden, back home."

"We can ride during the break, if you want."

"Okay," She said, agreeing a little quieter than perhaps she wanted to.  She felt shy around him a lot of time, and she wondered if that was because she had monumental feelings for him that she could not press down, no matter how hard she tried. 

They came to the living room and Rose let out a gentle sigh.  The tree was barren, but the other parts of the room weren't.  There were garlands on the wall with lights in them, some multicolored and some white.  She saw a little ceramic Santa on the end table, and a tiny reindeer on the other. 

"It's beautiful," she said.

He tugged his ear. "I know it's not much, because you probably see all sorts of gorgeous decorations in Powell, but we do our best to-"

"It's beautiful," She repeated.  "I love it."

He blew out what seemed to be a sigh of relief.  "Oh, I'm glad you like it," he said, looking around the room. "This is how we decorate it every year."

Rose thought about Christmas in Powell, how the servants decorated and Rose had never questioned it.  She wished she'd had a childhood where she could've decorated with her family, but never thought about it.  It was never a topic that was up for discussion, and she had never thought that it was something she could have.  She regretted that now.  She squeezed his hand. 

"That's... That's perfect."

When they all sat down to dinner, Rose was nearly alarmed by the love she was shown.  Sylvia and Wilf and Donna were all happy to chat with her and ask her all about how her studies were going.  She answered them, flustered that somebody cared.  Her parents hadn't spoken to her since she'd gone to Uni, and she knew they loved her, but it didn't really feel like that. 

"So, sweetheart, you love art?" Wilf asked.

Rose nodded. "Yeah.  It's really something that's held onto me my whole life, I think, " she said.

"You never let that spark go," Sylvia said, "It's an important place in your heart, where you can keep art."  She waved her fork at Rose.  "I think you'll do great in whatever you do."

"Me too," John said, smiling at her. 

After dinner, they all got up and Rose tried to help Sylvia tidy up, but the rest of the family ushered her into the living room again so that they could start decorating.  Rose rolled up the sleeves on John's jumper so they wouldn't get caught and they all started looking through boxes upon boxes of ornaments.  Rose gasped and pulled one up that was dangling from a piece of yarn.  It was a picture of John that read, "Ninth Christmas."  He had a geeky smile and his hair was still wildly tousled.  

Donna let out a bark of laughter and John blushed and lunged for it. "Oh, no, not that!" He said, dodging to catch her.  She squeaked and evaded his grip.

"John, come on, it's adorable," she said, cradling the picture in her hand.  John sighed and rolled his eyes.

He laid a hand on her shoulder.  "Put it back?" he asked.

She looked up at him with a smile on her face.  "Nope," she said, "i'm gonna hang it on the tree and you're gonna deal with it."  She brushed past him and went to the tree, neither of them noticing that the rest of the family had been watching them.  She hung it up, right in the center, under where the star would be.  She clasped her hands together under her chin.

"Looks lovely," Sylvia said softly, "I forget you used to be that little, John."

"I know, it's pretty weird."  John said, "I've always been thirty, mentally."

Rose rolled her eyes.  "There's a kid in there somewhere."

"Of course there is," Donna said, "There's a kid in everyone, you miserable sod," she nudged his shoulder and he rolled his eyes.

They decorated the tree, giggling and teasing each other.  Rose fell into step easily with them, letting them tease her and able to kid with them in return.  She missed all the longing looks that John kept sending her. Every once in awhile, he settled a hand on her hip or on her upper back to lean over her and put something on the tree. 

Finally, after the sun had set, the tree was full of ornaments and she felt proud of their accomplishment.  It was that, she realized, an accomplishment.  Wilf settled the star on the top of the tree and lit the lights, and everyone in the room clapped.  

"Well, we're going to watch a gushy Christmas movie and cry now, I think," Donna said, clapping her hands, "John, could you go feed the horses?"

"Sure," John said, stepping away from Rose somewhat reluctantly to head towards the door.  Donna jerked her head after him and winked before settling beside her mum on the couch to turn the telly on. 

Catching on, Rose called out, "I'll come with you," and rolled the sleeves on his jumper down to her wrists before cramming her shoes on her feet and following John out of the house.  He looked behind himself and smiled. 

"I'm going to pull the cover over on Bessie, too, it might snow tonight," he said, heading towards his car first, almost as though she had reminded him of that by her mere presence.  She watched him do it, and crossed her arms to lock out the chill. 

"I love your family," she said, finally working up the courage to do so.

He smiled, "Really?"

She grinned back at him. "Really.  They're nothing like my family, and that's actually a good thing, I guess.  I love my family, but this was so different."

"I'm happy that you were happy tonight," he said, securing the top of the car and standing back to look at his work.   "Come on," he reached out for her and she let her hand slip through his again.  They walked together towards the stables, murmuring quietly, the feeling most decidedly intimate between them.  She wondered when things had changed so much between them, and when she had stopped minding. 

She helped him feed the horses, as that was something that she knew how to do, and soon she was just standing and absently petting one of the horse's muzzles and cooing to it.  

"Rose?"

She turned her head towards him, acknowledging him. 

"Are you happy?  Were you really happy tonight?"

Rose laughed and regarded him with her full attention.  "Yes," she promised.  "I don't know if I've had this much fun since I came to Uni."

"Even at the party?"

She stopped to think.  "Well... That was a lot of fun too."

"I really enjoy spending time with you."

He heart pounded in her chest.  She reached up to cup his cheeks, feeling a little bold.  "I enjoy spending time with you too."

After a moment, his own hands crept up to touch her waist, fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt.  "You're still wearing my jumper," he said in a hushed tone, his dark eyes boring into hers. 

She shuddered and took a step closer.  "Yes.  Might just hang onto it now, I quite like it."

"You could... You could have it, if you want it," he told her cautiously, as though he wasn't sure how he'd react.  Wasn't she being obvious enough?  She had to wonder. 

"I'm gonna keep it whether you want me to or not," she said, tilting her chin up, giving him permission. 

He sighed softly and dipped his head down, pressing a light kiss to her lips.  She let out a long breath after he pulled away and tried to follow him, her eyes closed. 

Taking that as her full permission, he leaned down and kissed her again, still chaste but with a bit less tenseness behind it, like he was no longer afraid of her rejection.  She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him ever closer, reveling in the feeling of being able to touch him like this when she had wanted to for what felt like years.  

He slowly opened his mouth over hers, as though he wasn't sure exactly what she wanted, but he wanted to give her everything.  She let him in, curling her fingers into his hair and letting him hold her just as much as she was holding him. 

Soon they were clinging to each other and full on snogging.  He let out a little whimper when she pulled away and pressed gentle kisses to her brow and cheeks.  She finally opened her eyes and smiled at him before throwing her arms around his neck.  He squeezed her around the waist and they held each other tight.  

"Thank you," Rose whispered.

"What?" John asked into her neck, confused.  "For what?"

"For showing me your family, for taking me to that party, for talking to me.  She pulled abck and looked up at him.  "You're amazing, John."

"You make me feel like I could be better," he said softly. "And I don't really know why."

She smiled, feeling her heart swell.  She kissed him hard and he responded with equal ferocity, until a horse whinnied and they broke apart guiltily like they'd been caught.  

He pressed his forehead to hers and laughed softly.  "Do you want to go inside and watch a bad Christmas movie with my family?"

She laughed and nodded against him. "Yeah," she said, "I'd like that."

She called Sarah Jane but almost forgot because she was too busy walking on air.


	10. Chapter 10

Rose and John found that their relationship fell easily into place once the two of them had kissed.  There had been lots more kissing, one night when John and Rose were at the house alone, it had turned into full on necking on the couch and it left Rose feeling dizzy and john flustered.  He had looked at her, stunned, that night, and she had wrapped her legs around his hips and dragged him back down to her. 

She'd never been like this with a man before, not even when she was free to flirt around Powell.  But she tried not to think about it, because she didn't want to have to tell John that she was a princess.  She wanted to tell him that she was just a normal girl from Powell that was falling in love with a boy from London. 

Because whether she liked it or not, that was exactly what was happening.  She was falling in love with him.  He made her stomach flip and her heart clench.  She always wanted to know how he was doing or what he was going to do later, and was he happy? She could tell the difference between love and lust and she could also quickly tell what this was fast becoming. 

The third day she was with John's family, she and Donna had been watching telly when John had thundered down the stairs and stared at both of them for a few moments, waiting for them to notice him.

"Oi, what?" Donna asked, pausing the tv and looking incredibly put out. 

"Rose, do you want to go for a ride?" he asked politely, his hands clasped behind him. "I have a winter picnic planned... If you like!  You don't have to, not if you don't want to, I just thought I'd ask."

Donna suppressed her smile and leaned back, watching the two of them interact.  Rose blushed but met his eyes still. 

"I'd love to," she said, "Can we finish this movie later?" She asked Donna.  Donna nodded and smiled.

"I'll record it for you," she said, throwing her brother a wink once Rose got up from the couch.  

Rose grabbed her coat and put it on, buttoning it up as they headed out the door. She pulled her gloves out of her pockets and had to practically chase John, who was taking rather long strides.  He kept turning around to make sure that she was behind him and he smiled at her every time he did so until they reached the stables. 

When they set off on their ride, the picnic basket attached to the saddle on his horse, they were giggling, cheeks already rosy and happy.  Rose gripped the reins expertly and John had to admire how she was with the horse.  She talked to it and gave it directions vocally as she turned the reins. 

"There's a field down here," he called after her, "I want to go there!" 

Rose nodded and turned herself around to come back to his side.  They didn't gallop, and Rose calmed her horse so that she could be right next to John.  A silence fell around them for a few moments, and Rose found that she really wanted to reach around and hold his hand.  Unfortunately, there was too much space between them and with her gloves on, she wouldn't be able to feel his skin against hers. 

"I love it here," she told him, not or the first time.

He looked at her in surprise, "You do?"

She nodded wistfully.  "I like the work.  Donna helps me feed the horses. I never had to feed the animals in the- where I lived," she hoped he hadn't caught her slip.  He didn't seem to, seemed fixated on her previous words. 

"I'm glad I brought you," he said, "My family is the most important thing in the world, and I wanted you to like them," he shrugged, a little awkwardly. "I don't know."

Rose beamed at him.  "I'm glad you wanted me to like it," she told him, "I'm having a wonderful time.  I don't want to go back to campus."

John chuckled.  "Me neither, if I'm honest." 

Finally, they reached the field, which was rather cold, and the wind wasn't hindered since there were no trees, but John seemed to have that covered.  When he  got off his horse, he laid out one large quilt and pulled out another one.  She smiled.

"You're prepared," she teased, pulling the picnic basket from the horse's saddle.  John led the horses to one of the sparse trees on the edge of the field and covered both of them in blankets, patting their muzzles before coming back to Rose. 

She sat down on the blanket and looked expectantly up at him.  He sat next to her and pulled the other blanket over them.  He leaned over to kiss her forehead before pulling the basket in front of their laps.  In it, he had two thermoses of tea and sandwiches and fruit.  Rose knew he didn't know how to cook _that_ well, but she did know that he had tried, and that made her feel inexplicably happy. 

"This was very thoughtful of you, John," she said, "Thank you."

"Of course," he said, unwrapping one of the sandwiches.  "I used to come here all the time, as a good, and I really loved it.  I thought you might like it too.  Although I did usually come here in the summer."  He seemed to ponder that thoughtfully for a moment and it made her giggle.

She nudged his shoulder and took a sip of her tea. "I think that it's lovely," she told him enthusiastically.  Feeling daring, she took one gloved hand and tipped his chin so he was forced to look at her. His eyes darkened instantly and leaned towards her.  His nose nudged against hers and he lowered himself even closer to her, capturing her lips in a slow kiss that set her blood on fire and made her forget about the cold. 

After several blissful moments, he pulled away with a shuddering sigh.  "Maybe we should eat first," he said shakily, and she smiled, feeling proud that she had that effect on him.  She made sure to breathe against his mouth when she murmured her reply. 

"Okay," she said, and he groaned. 

"That's not _fair,"_ he teased her, but she could tell that he was only half teasing, which made her laugh again. 

They ate and talked about their classes for the next semester and she found that she had truly, _truly_ never been happier.  With John, she felt like she was her most free.  She leaned her head against his shoulder and listened to the rumble of his voice within her cheek.  She rubbed her cheekbone against him and he put his arm around her, holding her close to his side. 

"You're so close to graduating," she said softly.

"I'll stay close," he promised, against her temple. "I want to be close to you."

She smiled happily.  "I want to stay here for as long as I can," she admitted. "I don't want to go home."

"I didn't expect to hear you say that," he said, sounding as surprised as he was telling her that he was.  "Maybe you should think about that."

"I'm not making a decision right now," she assured him, "But I know how I feel right now, when I'm with you, when-" she stopped and bit her lip in embarrassment, and he sighed softly.

"You know, I think I might know what you mean," he said softly.  "I want to stay here forever."

Once they'd finished eating, it seemed an unspoken agreement that they would have to pick up where they left off.  He leaned over her, kissing her gently at first, his hand coming up to her face, fingers threading through her hair.  He whimpered softly when she pulled away for breath and she wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging him closer.  

He braced himself over her, their legs tangling together in the blankets.  That made them both laugh, and they had to separate to giggle at their situation.  Rose wriggled against him and he gasped.

"Sorry," She whispered.

He grabbed her hip.  "Don't be."

She bit her lip, suddenly feeling a little self conscious. "We're in public," she whispered. 

He smiled down at her. "No one can see us, there's no one around." His voice was a tenor rumble as he dipped his head to her neck and he kissed her there gently, listening to the gentle purr of her contentment as she ran her hands through his hair and shifted under him.  He ran one hand up her side, keeping the other planted on the ground above her, trying to keep themselves situated. 

He pulled down the edge of her coat and sucked harshly at her collarbone, pressing a kiss to the angry purple bruise he left behind.  

She wasn't angry he'd marked her, in fact, she wasn't adverse to the idea at all.  Her eyes fluttered shut as he kissed his way back to her mouth, kissing her deeply. She had never felt more loved than she did when John was holding her.  

Finally, after several blissful minutes (since nothing could really happen in the cold) he turned over and laid next to her, pulling the blanket over them both.  She cuddled into his side and tilted her head up to kiss the underside of his jaw. 

She wrapped her arms around his waist and they talked for what felt like hours and no time at all until Rose yawned and the sun was starting to set.  He chuckled at that and kissed the crown of her head before sitting up, taking her with him. 

"We'd better get back before they worry," he said, starting to fold up one of the blankets.  Rose watched him, the spectacular angle of his jaw and the slope of his nose. He wasn't traditionally attractive, but Rose thought he was the most handsome man in the universe.  She wanted to tell him she loved him, but she couldn't, it was too soon, she'd scare him off.  So she bit her lip and watched him through her lashes before getting up to help him. 

"Do you have to take a science next year?" He asked her as they mounted their horses again. 

Rose nodded. "Yes.  Advanced Physics."

"Oh, I loved physics!  I can tutor you, that is, if you want," he offered and Rose nodded before realizing he was watching the path in front of them and not looking at her face. 

"Yes, I'd like that," she said primly.  

Her posture was that of a princess, and she was really used to it, so she didn't notice a thing.  John, however, noticed her beautiful posture and found that her confidence was incredibly attractive.  He found everything about her attractive, though, she was very special.  In two days it was Christmas, and he was going to have to get her something fantastic. He didn't know what she expected, after all, what she was used to being given.  He wanted to give her the best gift possible, and when there were lulls in the conversation, it was all he thought about. 

They returned back to the house and Rose was thinking things along the same time.  With Christmas so close, she knew that she had to get him _something,_ after all.  He'd invited her to his home, and she'd accepted and here she was.  

She and Donna started their movie up again after dinner and she finally thought to ask. 

"What does John want for Christmas?" She asked softly, just in case he was listening. 

"Oh, good question," Donna said. "I just got him a book, he loves books."

"I want to get him something special though," Rose protested, tucking her feet up under her, "You know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I've got a boyfriend too," Donna nodded. "You want to 'beat' anyone that came before you, ruin him for everyone else, right?"

Rose didn't want to admit it, but that was exactly what it was.  She nodded slightly, blushing. 

Donna smiled and reached over, squeezing Rose's knee. "I'll take you out to shop tomorrow. Just remember to be yourself.  That's all he wants anyway."


	11. Chapter 11

All Rose could think of when Donna took her out shopping was that John had made her name tag for her job.  The very gesture had been so thoughtful that it pulled her heart and she wanted to do something even nicer.  She chewed on her thumbnail as she looked through one of the final shops in the area.  Donna had been very patient, and suddenly Rose gasped and rushed towards an item.  Donna pretended to hide her sigh of relief and followed after the girl. 

Rose stood hunched over two leather bound books.  One had 'Dickens Classics' written on it in gold, curly font, and one was a red leather book that upon further inspection, was blank.

"They're perfect," She said softly. 

Donna reached over and checked the price, then turned back to Rose. 

"I hate to break it to you, sweetie, but they're pretty expensive."

Rose checked the price.  She remembered just how much money she had on her and waved her hand at Donna. "I can handle it," she said, checking the tags and heading straight to the checkout. 

"Uh, are you sure?  Are you sure?" Donna asked, following her new friend and hoping to keep her from not buying at least one of them.  

"Yeah," Rose said happily, "He deserves it."

Donna stopped and stared after Rose, suddenly realizing something that she should've realized the moment John had brought her home.  She was perfect for him.  Absolutely perfect. 

Unfortunately, the one thing they didn't see in the store was the man with the camera who snapped a rather sneaky photo of Rose. 

**

Christmas morning, Rose woke up to a gentle kiss on her forehead and fingers running through her hair.  She stretched and opened her eyes to see John kneeling before her, next to her bed.  He had one arm resting up against hers on the bed, the other over her, fingers in her hair. 

"Good morning," she whispered.  "What time is it?"

"Seven o' clock," he replied softly, "No one's up yet."

She reached for him and pulled him in for a gentle kiss.  "Can we have a cuddle for a bit then?"

"I think I can fit that into my schedule," he teased, "I'll stay over the covers to save your virtue."

She let out a little giggle and he kissed her on the nose before crawling over her to lay behind her, spooned up against her. 

"This has been the best Christmas break I could ever imagine," he said softly into her ear.  She smiled, her eyes fluttering shut. 

"Mine, too," she said, "Maybe you should come home with me next time," She hinted, knowing she had to tell him, that she couldn't live a long term relationship not telling him who she was or without him finding out.  She only hoped he wouldn't be angry with her.  Would he still feel the same way about her that he had before?

She grabbed his hand from around her waist and tugged it to her mouth, dropping a kiss to his knuckles.  He flexed his fingers and pressed light kisses to her ear.  He cuddled up behind her and laid his head next to hers on the pillow.  His breath tickled her ear and she giggled, wriggling against him. 

His breath hitched and he moved away from her slightly.  "Happy Christmas," he said, a little flustered, as though he couldn't really think of anything else to say.  

She laughed. "Happy Christmas, John," she said.  "I think you'll find my gift the best of all. And if you don't, well, I'll just find my own ride back to Uni."

She scooted away from him at that, and he sensed her tone was playful and decided to play along.  "Oh, you'll not find a better driver than me," he leaned over and bit her neck softly, pulling away to pepper the spot with gentle kisses that made their way up her neck to her jawbone. 

She felt the words 'I love you' wanting to burst out of her, but she couldn't let them. It was too soon, she didn't know what love was, and she couldn't pretend to. She knew she felt like he was the only man in the world for her. She loved almost everything about him.  He was smart and sexy and treated her like absolute gold.  

"Don't you wanna see what I bought you before you fixate on leaving?" she asked, arching her neck to give him more access. 

He sighed happily at her permission and threw his leg over hers, which were covered by the duvet.  "Yeah, but I'm really, really happy here right now."

She ran her hand back and into his hair, giving it a light tug.  "Your mum is in the next room," she whispered. 

He rolled her over with lightening fast speed, perching over her.  "Of course," he said, "She does live here," he leaned down and pressed one, two, three kisses to her lips, each deeper than the last, "But at the moment I'm more focused on you."

She reached up and cupped his cheeks, drawing him down for a longer, deeper kiss that left her head spinning, though she couldn't be bothered to go down to get his present for him.  She brought her knees up, bracketing his hips with them, and let him continue his assault on her mouth until he had to pull away to pant for breath. 

One of his hands came up from bracing himself and he cupped her cheek in one hand. "You're so beautiful," He said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, and it made her blush.  Oh, she'd been called beautiful by countless newspapers and magazines, but somehow, with John saying it, it was something different. Like it meant more. 

She looked up at him.  "I haven't got a stitch of makeup on," she said a little nervously. 

"I like you that way," he told her, "I like you all ways."

She giggled at his phrasing.  "Oh, do you?" 

"Yes," he said honestly, his voice full of sincerity that she could not dare to replicate, even if she tried.  She felt a slow smiled grace her face and she pulled him down on top of her for a rather exuberant hug.  He grunted at the impact and wrapped his arms around her, wedging them between her body and the bed. 

"I like you all ways too," she promised. 

"Nothing changes when we go back home right?" he asked, his voice muffled in her neck. "We stay together?"

She gripped him tightly at the very implication of his question.  That any part of her at all wanted to leave him.  "Yeah," she said, "We stay together.  Did you think I wouldn't?"

"I didn't know," he replied, "But I've wanted to kiss you forever."

She hummed happily, "You are rather wonderful to kiss."

"By all means, do it as much as you like," he said urgently, and she laughed. 

"Come on, let's go downstairs before your family gets there, yeah?"

John sat back on his haunches, still between her knees, and reached for her hand.  She sat up too and strained her neck upwards for another kiss.  He indulged her for several moments before groaning and pulling away. 

"If you keep doing that we'll never get downstairs," he told her, "Let's go."

They were the first ones down, of course, so they sorted out the presents for everyone, John tugging teasingly at Rose's dressing gown tie whenever she tried to get too far away from him.  John told her where everyone normally sat during holidays and so she sorted them out that way, putting things exactly where he told her to.

"These are yours," Rose said, waving the packages that she had painstakingly wrapped at him before putting them in his spot, which was right next to her designated seat. 

"Well, they do say 'John' on them," he said, winking at her. 

"Alright," Rose rolled her eyes.  "What are we supposed to do now, huh?"

John waggled his eyebrows and Rose felt her jaw drop before she looked up at the ceiling, indicating that his family was still just mere steps away.  He grinned at her like he didn't see anything wrong with it at all.

Eventually, what felt like hours later, John's family came downstairs to twinkling Christmas lights and Rose and John cuddled next to each other, talking quietly around steaming mugs of tea. 

"Sylvia!" Rose said, smiling up at her, but not moving from her spot.  She greeted Donna and Wilf as well and John gestured to their spots. 

"We've got all your presents sorted," he said, pointing at the piles of gifts. "So go on, someone has to start."

"I think our guest should start," Sylvia said warmly, "Go ahead now, Rose."

"Oh, if you're sure," she said, reaching away from John to pick up a large package from Donna.  John's arm went right back around her shoulders, as though that was exactly where it belonged.  She tore through the delicate paper and fought through the box that Donna had taped the present into. 

Inside was a picture frame, filled with a picture that they'd taken Rose's second day, a Christmas Card like picture with Rose and John's arms around each other, and Donna, Wilf, and Sylvia all next to them. 

Rose felt her heart warm at it. It wasn't a portrait, it was a _picture,_ a showcasing of the happiness in the little family that she almost considered herself a part of.  She looked up at Donna.  "Oh, it's beautiful," she whispered, "Donna, _thank_ you." She got to her feet and hugged Donna, who patted her back happily.

"You're welcome, sweetheart," she said. 

The rest of the presents seemed to fly by in a blur, with laughing and chatting and Sylvia getting up to check on things in the kitchen.  She was not about to let this year be the year the turkey burned, she would be sure of that.  

Finally, John picked up both of Rose's packages.  He looked over at her and waggled his brows before opening them both before examining them.  He ran his fingers over them and Rose felt increasingly nervous.  What if he didn't like them?  That was quite possibly the worst thing she could imagine.  She chewed her lip as the entire family stared at John, waiting for a response. 

"These are beautiful," he said quietly, and turned to Rose.  "Where did you even-"

"Don't worry about it," she cut him off.  "I thought of you and so I bought them."

He smiled and leaned over to give her a chaste kiss.  "They're perfect, Rose, I love them.  Thank you."

Rose beamed, feeling satisfied and a weight lifted off her shoulders.  She drew her knees up on the couch and watched him flip through them.  He reached over and rubbed her knee and Sylvia clapped her hands.

"Alright! Rose, you've got one left, is it from John?" She asked, and Rose looked up from her distraction. 

"Oh!" Rose reached over and picked up the little box that was wrapped with pink paper and had a little red bow on top.  She cracked the paper open and opened the little jewelry box to find an absolutely stunning silver bracelet with pink and yellow charms and studs all throughout it.  It caught the lights from the tree in just the right way and Rose let out a small gasp. 

"Oh, John," she whispered, reaching to touch it.  Hurriedly, she pulled it from the box and held it for him to put it on her. 

"It's beautiful!" Wilf said, though he didn't sound _terribly_ interested. "Where did you find it, John?" he asked.  

"A jewelry store," John chuckled as he fastened the bracelet on Rose's wrist and the women cooed over it.  "I really just thought it suited her."  He looked at his adoptive granddad with a look of hope in his eyes, _You like her, right?_ it clearly said. 

Wilf's eyes crinkled up in a happy smile and he nodded.  

**

They had a rather rambunctious dinner full of happy shouting, and Rose just barely remembered to check in with Sarah Jane for the holiday.  

The day after New Year's, Rose and John got in his car to go home.  Things were different, as John held her hand when it wasn't on the gear shift and she leaned over to kiss his cheeks during red lights.  

One thing they didn't notice was that they were being followed by the man who had taken Rose's picture.  John, moreso than Rose, hadn't realized a damn thing. 

He realized, the third time she gave him _that_ smile on the car ride home, and leaned over and kissed him, that he was in love with her.


	12. Chapter 12

A few weeks later, Rose and John were studying with Martha in the library.  Martha was having quite the time, enjoying watching them pretend they were reading and not flirting, even when John would lean over her and murmur an answer into her ear.  She would turn towards him and he would smile softly, and move back to his seat.

Martha tapped her pencil against the table and mouthed "the stacks" at Rose when she looked up. Rose blushed furiously and glanced back down at her paper, writing furiously.  Martha beamed at her reaction.  

The Stacks, Rose had discovered (capital letters completely warranted) was a place couples went to... Do couple things. When Martha had told her about it she'd been incredibly uncomfortable, and was even more unnerved when she thought about how John was sitting right next to her.  

John's pinky rubbed over hers then and she found herself shivering slightly.  He was looking at her, nothing short of gazing, his eyes twinkling and a small smile gracing his face.  She smiled back, blushing a little, and looked over at Martha, who cocked an eyebrow.  Rose blinked and looked back down at her book. 

But, oh, it was impossible to think like this, with all the casual brushing and touching and he said he didn't have very many girlfriends so maybe he was just repressed which made sense she supposed and oh, she was even rambling in her head.  

She ran her hand through her hair and turned to him. "Come with me," she whispered.  

John arched a brow but followed her in standing when she stood.  Martha gave Rose a thumbs up behind her physics book and Rose blushed again before nodding to John to follow. 

It started as a casual walk, a few feet away from each other, pretending they were looking at books whenever a librarian got too close to them.  Finally, though, they entered the more darkened area of the library and Rose broke into a run, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.  She turned when she reached the last bookshelf, almost drenched in darkness, and reached for him. 

He pushed her against the shelf, his mouth closing hungrily over hers.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and he slid his hands along her waist, pulling her closer against him.  Her own hands wandered under the collar of his shirt, touching warm bare skin and his breath hitched into her mouth at the sensation.

"Rose," he mumbled against her mouth, and moved down to suck at her neck, drawing her closer.  She grunted in reply, but it came out as more of a breathy kind of sound that made him press himself more tightly up against her.  

She ran her hands up into his hair and pressed him closer to her neck.  He moved over her and tugged down the collar of her shirt to suck a love bite where no one would see once he put her shirt back in place.  After several long moments he pulled back just enough to lave the angry purple bruise he'd left with his tongue.  She groaned and pulled him back up to her mouth, opening her mouth against his the second their lips met.  She curled her fingers against his scalp and his hands fisted in her shirt. 

"I have never met anyone like you," he mumbled against her.

She pulled his head back to look into his eyes.  "I've never met anybody like you," she whispered. 

"Thank God for that," he said before hoisting her up so her back was braced against the shelves, her legs wrapped loosely around his hips.  

Things were rather in danger of escalating (Quite nicely, in John's opinion. And Rose's, if she was capable of rational thought at that point) until the flash of a camera broke through their private moment, reflecting on closed eyelids.  They broke apart, Rose with a strangled gasp, for she knew what was coming, knew _exactly_ what she was.  John looked completely confused, but let her down to her feet. She winced at the loss of his body but she knew that she couldn't stay there, wrapped around him.  The photographers took another few pictures and Rose held her hand up, in shock, and John opened his mouth to defend himself when Rose grabbed his hand.  "Run!" She hissed, and pulled him off, back through the books.  John followed her mindlessly, starting with a 'Rose, what-' before she shushed him.  He fell silent after that, just ran along behind her, his hand squeezed tightly in hers.

As she expected, the photographers pursued them, and they were quiet aside from flashes and shutters cutting through the quiet air of the library. Martha looked up from her book and would've followed had she known what was going on, which, of course, she didn't. 

rose thought she just might get out of this clean, for a few moments,  until someone shouted "Princess, turn around!" and Rose grimaced painfully.  And John made an odd noise of confusion but seemed to re-route his thoughts rather quickly.

"Here, I know a better way," John overtook her, his stride almost too long for her to keep up,  and she looked at him while he passed and saw the grim line on his face.  She felt her own expression fall, even as they ran.  He was certainly going to be getting rid of her now.  And, really, it was all her fault.  Although she really didn't have the time to dwell on it, she couldn't help the feeling of her sinking heart that felt like it was plunging into her stomach.

She would never know how John did it, but he managed to bob and weave, taking them both through the library and down two flights of stairs to the basement of the library, and by then, they'd lost the reporters.  John slammed the door to the room they were in, which appeared to be an old office, and stood with his hands on his hips, trying to catch his breath.  Rose stood panting heavily against the wall, her heart thundering in her chest with the running and her anxiety mounting.  She leaned her head back and stared up at the ceiling, really quite unable to look at him when she felt like this.

"I can't-" John ran his hands through his hair.  "Who were those people?"

"The press," she murmured, fiddling with her rings and wishing they had stayed upstairs, _why_ didn't they just stay upstairs?  Silence fell between them and she found it instantly maddening, wishing he would speak to her.  Even though he wasn't speaking, she could feel him watching her, staring her down. 

John swallowed audibly.  "You... You... They called you..." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from her, "What haven't you told me, Rose?" 

She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "I didn't want you to think of me any different," she explained through her tear thickened voice. "I was trying to be _normal,_ and I didn't expect to find someone like you," she pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and choked on a sob.

"You're the princess of Powell," he said softly.  She nodded miserably.  

They stood mostly in silence, Rose's tears the only thing keeping them down on Earth and out of their thoughts.  He watched her, and although he felt betrayed, she had never _lied,_ and she had done it because she was afraid she would lose him.  Not because she cheated or did anything else that was uncouth, but because she thought he wouldn't want to be with a princess.

Most women would brag about that.  But she was sobbing because he'd found out she was about to inherit a kingdom.  

It didn't change what he felt about her, that was for damn sure.  He approached her tentatively and she felt his footsteps more than heard them. The second she felt his hands make contact with her shoulders she looked up, startled.  

"You're the crowned heir of Powell?" He asked it this time, wanting her to say it.  

She nodded slowly, then seemed to realize what he wanted.  "I'm the princess," she murmured, "Daughter to Jacqueline and Peter Tyler."

His hands skimmed down her arms and he released her but didn't step away from her.  She looked at him and shifted uncomfortably.  She didn't want to have to say anything else.  If he didn't speak, it would destroy her. But there was one question that ate at her for a few more moments and she had to speak it. 

"Do you regret it?" She asked, touching the bracelet he'd bought her, "Taking me to your family, spending Christmas...."

"No," he said quickly, "No, I don't regret it."

She bit her lip and nodded.  "Okay.  Sorry, I'll go now, I didn't mean to do this," she brushed away her tears.  "I don't want to cause-"

Her phone rang, cutting her off, and she scrambled for it, pressing her phone to her ear and grabbing his sleeve, silently begging him not to leave. He made no move to shift away from her, at least, just stayed right where he was, right in front of her, nearly caging her in like he had upstairs in the stacks, when things were about to go so differently.

"Hello?" Rose answered her phone. 

"Rose we need to go home," Sarah Jane said, and John could hear this, and his eyes widened in worry. 

"No, why?" Rose's face scrunched up again but she forced herself not to cry.

"Your father has been in an accident. I don't want any of your sass, my lady.  We need to go home. Now.  You may be taking the throne sooner than you thought."

Rose's expression turned into one of worry and she swallowed, looking up at John.  She could tell from one look in his eyes that he had heard everything.  She nodded, tears starting to fill up for a different reason.  

"What happened?" 

"An assassination attempt.  It just happened, your mother called me, having a fit.  We have to leave as soon as possible, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," she said meekly.  

"I'll meet you at your dorm in an hour."

Rose hung up and let go of John, backing away from him as much as she could.  "Um, well, I guess you'll be rid of me now."

She tried to slip away but he grabbed her and pinned her back against the wall.  "I don't _want_ to be rid of you.  I really don't." He reached up slowly and cupped her face. "I want you to stay, but now you have to go home.  I... I get that.  But I don't want us to leave it like this, Rose."

Her heart lifted, because he simply called her 'Rose', because he didn't want to leave her behind.  She leaned up and wrapped her arms around his neck.  He held her around the waist and tucked his face into the crook of her neck, sighing softly. 

"Will you come back?  When your dad gets better?" He asked softly. 

"Didn't you hear?" She replied, "He might not get better."  She hated being so blase about her father's assassination attempt, but she felt her mind running a mile a minute and was in shock.  Too much was happening for her at once.

John felt himself close off at the idea that she might not ever come back. He drew away from her and he knew that she could see him closing the doors.  She had been the first person in so long that he had opened up to, allowed himself to kiss and hold and give himself to emotionally.  He swallowed hard, and took two steps back from her.  

She felt it, felt him leave her even as he still stood in front of her.  She slumped her shoulders.  "Okay, well, goodbye then."

"Goodbye, Rose," he replied softly.  

He waited a few minutes after she left before even thinking about going upstairs.  Where was he going to be without her?  He'd never felt so connected to another human being in his life.  Even as she left he wanted to grab her back and tug her against him and beg her not to leave. 

He sniffed and straightened his shirt, still able to smell her perfume there.  It would be as it had always been: he would be alone. 

This time, though, it would be entirely his fault.


	13. Chapter 13

Rose went home.  She could continue Uni at home, all her professors told her, and they gave her online links and emails and all the help they could.  She had to tell them why she was leaving of course, and they were more than understanding with her situation. Rose thought, quite miserably, that they were forced to, in a way.  

Sarah Jane gave her a tight hug when they saw each other and Rose huffed softly, trying not to cry for so many reasons.  She felt absolutely miserable.  Sarah Jane tried to comfort her as well as she could, but she knew nothing could settle the girl's upset about her father and John. 

Oh, she knew about John, of course she did.  She was not a stupid person, and knew love when she saw it.  though, she could never say that to Rose.  She had enough to deal with at the moment. 

Soon enough, Rose was back in her gowns and tiara, classy suits and dresses when the times called for it.  Her father lay in a hospital bed and though nobody wanted to, they started to train her to become queen.  

And still she wished she had someone to lean on through all of it, someone that wasn't her inconsolable mother or Sarah Jane.  She contacted Martha quite a lot, but had little time to even think of John, with as busy as she was, and she really thought that he didn't want to speak to her anyway. 

****

Of course, John was far from avoiding her.  He didn't make any sense at work, had to mumble to his boss that Rose was gone because she was a princess.  The man had furrowed his brows but had decided not to question it. John had never been quite so mad for a girl before, and there was no reason for him to make up something like that. 

He wanted to call, of course, but he couldn't.  She was probably busy doing something far more important than that, tending to her father.  He felt stupid for even wanting to contact her.  She probably didn't want to see him. 

He hadn't meant to push her away, that day in the stacks, but he felt as though he had to.  She was leaving, so she wouldn't stay with him.  It was that simple.  And even though he wanted her to stay with him, it wasn't his decision. 

"You look a little down," Jack said sarcastically, sitting at the bar as John cleaned up.

The other man snorted.  He knew that Jack had seen exactly what he was like, especially since Rose had left. He shook his head and started toweling down the bar, the wet cloth streaking the dark surface. 

"You gonna talk?"

John shook his head and continued his scrubbing, trying to pretend that he was very much enjoying himself and knew exactly what Jack was getting at.  Well, of course he did know what Jack was getting at, and it didn't make him very happy. 

"Come on, John," Jack scolded.  "You're in love with her.  You should really just admit it."

John scowled, "I'm never gonna see her again, Jack. There's no reason for me to do anything about _anything._ She's back in Powell, living her life, as she should."

"But you want her here, with you," Jack pointed out, and the statement left no room for argument. 

"Well, even if I did, it doesn't matter what I think, does it?" John snapped. "She's home with her father, who, I don't know if you know, was almost assassinated. She has better things to worry about than me."

Jack was quiet for a few moments, not saying a word for awhile.  He watched John's aggressive cleaning and knew he was taking out anger that was absolutely not directed at Rose.  John was furious with the world, the universe, for not allowing anyone to stay with him. Jack felt his mouth twitch. He wondered if John was alone because he accidentally made himself that way; he backed off and left himself standing in the rubble of a ruined relationship, not knowing what he did wrong. 

"But she went home with you for Christmas," Jack said firmly, "She met your family, she bought you the books, the journal you write in every night and the book you'll read until the spine cracks.  You know that just as well as I do, don't you?"

John sighed and braced his hands on the table, glaring at his friend over the bar.  "Okay, I give, Jack.  What is it you're trying to get at?"

"That you're in love with her, " Jack said softly, trying to be gentle in the face of John's anger.  

"I know that," he scoffed, "I _know_ that.  A lot of good that does me now, doesn't it?  She lives her life and I live mine.  And we have to live apart because there is no way we could ever be together."

"Well, there is one, you just don't want to think of it," Jack said simply, running his finger over the rim of his glass and waiting for John to get more curious about it.

John's motions of cleaning the bar slowed to a stop.  "What?" He demanded. 

"You could go to her."

John let out a harsh bark of laughter and moved to clean out the glasses. "Yeah, Jack, I can just fly to Powell on a day trip.  Definitely. Of course!  Why didn't I think of that?" 

"You absolutely do not have to be this sarcastic," Jack said testily.  "She loves you too, John.  She does."

He sighed, "You're being ridiculous."

"I'm not!" Jack shouted, slamming his fist on the bar. "You are!  For once in your life you have found something worth fighting for and you won't fight for it!  Do you know how stupid you look right now?  Grumbling when you could be on a plane to the love of your life."

"That's a bit dramatic."

"It's not, I've seen the way you look at her, and the way she looks at you," Jack said, glaring.  "You need to go to her.  You can finish school online, John.  She means the world to you, and I promise you she has never been someone's world.  At least not someone who actually loved her.  Someone who just told her they loved her because she was a princess.  Don't you understand that?"

John closed his eyes and breathed heavily through his nose.  "How can I not?" He opened his eyes again.  "But how can I _go to Powell?"_

"It's really very simple."

*****

Rose sat staring out the window in the hospital.  The wing had been closed down so that her father could hear, and luckily, he was now responsive and awake.  She still felt distracted, even though she was very present in the moment with her family.  She was keeping up with school quite well.

"What are you thinking about, dear?" Pete asked, his eyes still closed, Jackie holding his hand. 

She looked over at her father a little guiltily. "Nothing."

"It's something," Pete replied.  "I can hear you thinking, all those gears clanking about in there.  What's on your mind?"

"School," she replied slowly.

"Sarah Jane told us you've met a boy."

Rose winced.  "Well, not... Exactly, no-"

"Yes, you did," Jackie said softly.  "And you're thinking about him."

"How do you-"

"There were pictures of you in the tabloids.  I didn't want anyone to tell you, but you should probably know," Jackie said.  "Just check the tabs with anyone."

Rose bit her nail. "I spent Christmas with his family." 

"We missed you here."

"I missed you too," Rose said, and really, she was only half lying.  She had missed her family, but she had been having so much fun with John's family that she couldn't be bothered to be upset that she wasn't with her mum and dad.

Jackie pressed a kiss to her husband's knuckles.  Rose felt suddenly guilty.  Here her father was, possibly dying, and she was thinking about how much she missed John. How selfish of her.  How terribly selfish. She felt herself sag and looked down at her feet, wearing the professional, black high heels that she was so accustomed to wearing when she was with her family.  She was so _tired_ of this image, and it was hard for her to not resent her parents for her birth.  

"I'm tired," Pete said, "I think I need to sleep for a little while.  You two return to the castle, let Rose catch up on her studies.  I'm sure her professors will want to hear from her."

"Of course, my love," Jackie said earnestly and leaned over to press a kiss to his forehead.  He murmured his love to her and Jackie and Rose left then, very quiet. 

"Perhaps you should call him," Jackie said harshly, "Since you can't seem to focus on anything else in the meantime."

Rose twiddled with her thumbs, forcing her posture to remain solid and strong, like any princess's should be.  "I can't," she replied, "There's no way... No reason.  He lives in London, it was a mistake to get involved with him at all."

"So you were involved," Jackie said.  It sounded like it should've been a question but wasn't one at all.  She knew. There was no use in pretending that she didn't' know what her mother was talking about. 

"Yes," Rose whispered, "We were friends until he took me to his mum's home for Christmas.  He's adoptive, doesn't have a real family.  But they're so kind and they've raised him to be incredibly kind and gentlemanly."

"You sound like you adore him."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to think of him," Rose replied quietly. "It's hard to think about, now that I know I most likely will not be returning back to London.  It was a useless infatuation, and I really don't know why I was so attached."

Jackie rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm sure you know that some people get attached to others because they're fond of them.  But you shouldn't have let it affect other aspects of your life. You understand that, don't you?"

"Yes," Rose said, "I'm trying not to let it.  But he got under my skin, mum, in a way that no one ever has, not any boy, any prince.  It's something I've never felt before."

"Are you in love with him?" Jackie asked bluntly, as was her way.  

Rose let out a gentle sigh.  "Well, I don't, I can't- maybe I'm not." She blew out her cheeks.  "I'd rather not discuss it any further if it's all the same to you, alright?"

"Don't take the tone," Jackie warned. "We'll go home and you'll do your work, and then you'll forget about that man.  He seems to cause you nothing but pain."

Jackie continued to bustle about in her queenly fashion, nose up and hands clasped before her. But Rose fell behind, taking a moment to gather herself.  She thought about John, how he had been so thoughtful to make her a little name tag for their job, how he had taken her for a picnic before Christmas.  She looked down at the bracelet he had gotten her, which she continued to wear every day since she'd been home.  She pursed her lips and refused to cry. He couldn't called.  He had her number and a phone works two ways, after all.

There was an ache in her chest when she thought of never seeing him again, when she thought of him with someone else.  Would he move on quickly or would he wait? Would he need to get over her at all?  Would he write in the book she bought him, read the other one?  Or would they become gifts given to him by a nameless ex?

Was that what she was?  Was she an ex now?  Worse, was it her fault?  She started up walking again, trying not to fall too far behind.  Her father would expect her to keep up a strong face in the presence of the situation before them.  She promised herself that she was not going to think of John.

It took about two moments into that promise before she realized that it was futile. She loved him and he would not leave her mind so easily.


	14. Chapter 14

She kept up with her studies diligently when she went home to Powell, and it wasn't until she went to a parade that she was to appear in with her mother that her life changed forever.  She was dressed in a heavy red gown, completely gaudy and ceremonial, with gold tassels and sparkles.  

She was loaded onto her horse side saddle, practical boots shoved into the stirrups. She was able to joke with the stable boys like she used to, and they teased her back as they had for years.  It was something familiar and she was glad that she was able to fall back into it.  

"Look alive!" Jackie said happily, clapping her hands as her lady in waiting adjusted her crown.  Sarah Jane approached Rose and reached up for her white-gloved hand.  Rose leaned down to giver her her hand. 

"I know you miss him, I know you're struggling with your father's wounds."

"I think this parade is a horrible idea," Rose said softly. "I might be next."

"You won't be," Sarah Jane said firmly. "The people love you and they love your mother. The crazy man that tried to kill your father is behind bars now, and the security is beefed up quite nicely.  She smiled softly. "I think it'll be good for you, my dear."

Rose nodded, still not quite believing it but managing to keep up with the cheery spirit.  She adjusted herself on the saddle after Sarah Jane released her hand and looked forward, preparing to ride out into the streets.  Jackie pointed at her tiara and Rose sighed, adjusting it.  That's right, she had a front to keep up now that she was home. She was a princess, spotless, untouched by human hands.

She blew out her cheeks and looked up for a brief moment before looking back before her.  She leaned over and patted her horse's neck.  It whinnied in response and she smiled. She was reminded, unbidden, of riding horses with John. That had been so much fun, she remembered happily.  

The ceremonial music started, and Rose lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders, preparing herself for the road (quite literally) ahead of her. She was seated on her horse behind her mother, who wore a gold gown and sat in a horse-drawn cart with plush red seats.  She turned around and smiled at her daughter. 

"Alright, sweetheart, let's go!" She said. 

Her mother loved these events, she knew. Rose liked the attention as well, but she had a feeling that no one loved them like her mother did.  She smiled at Jackie's excitement and nodded, and the queen gave her a big thumbs up before turning around. 

It was really quite odd to ride out before the cheering crowds after falling under the radar for so long.  The little girls who looked up to her so much beamed up at her, waving wildly.  She adopted back her princess wave, the gentle gesture that was respectful and was meant to fit her just like. 

She had forgotten how loved she was. Her heart fluttered happily in her chest.  This was what it meant to be a princess; to do one's duty but to also live one's own life.  Rose took pride in the fact that she was just like that.  Or, at least, she was trying to be. 

The tabloids had not been forgotten.  She'd seen the tabs.  She'd seen the pictures of them in the stacks, the ones taken of them in secret while she had been at his family's house for Christmas.  They were crude and scandalous, saying she was planning to elope with the mystery man who still lived with his mum.

But oh, if only they knew the real story. If they knew that John loved his work, was getting his doctorate, and stayed with his family because he couldn't afford to have a place off campus, the flat he lived in with Jack, and a place back home. He deserved those things, of course, but Rose never thought it was appropriate to ask if she could offer that to him.  Especially since she knew that he didn't know she was completely bloody rich.  And royalty, but that was really not the important part at all, she realized. 

The important part was both of them.  A call out of "Slag!" from the audience was quickly tackled down by one of Rose's men, and her smile never faltered. She had been far beyond the worries of what people thought of her, though she had hoped to avoid an event like that.  She didn't exactly appreciate being called names, no matter what she was being called and who was doing the calling. 

The little girls in the audience of the parade jeered at the man, pumping their fists and shouting until their mothers quieted them down.  

She had to laugh at that.  They were just as feisty as she was at that age.  She hoped they would grow up to be like her in a way. Not all ways, but one.  That they would learn to be themselves.  That's all she wanted for anyone, really, and they had more opportunity to do so.  

Shouts rose up from the crowd and she looked about in alarm, thinking it was going to be another assassination attempt and oh, God, she was high up on this horse, she was the easiest target possible but no, it appeared that the people below were pointing.  

A young woman held up a poster of a picture of her and John, and Rose almost scowled before she remembered that that wasn't very condoned and instead settled for furrowing her brows in confusion. She had never meant to drag him into all of this.  He deserved better. 

But still they pointed, eyes as wide as saucers, and she really wasn't sure why. Jackie seemed confused too, as both of them looked for the source of the pointing. She heard shouts of her name and only grew more confused by it. There was no one that would be calling her, after all. She had people who liked her, but never anyone who shouted her name, and never shouting while pointing at somebody else.  

And then she saw him.  Her eyes zeroed in on his eyes first, wide and dark.  He looked quite panicked and flustered.  He was wearing a brown pinstriped suit with a cornflower oxford, swirly tie, and good Lord: high topped chucks.  She laughed out loud when she saw him, having somehow gotten over the barrier.  

A bodyguard started to run for John and Rose shouted "No!" very sharply before sliding off the saddle and hoisting up her skirts, running full force at John.  He let out a sigh of relief, visible from even where she was.  He started to come for her too, bolting at top speed.  He reached her first, as she was weighed down by the gown, and he swept her into his arms, wrapping his arms around her waist.  She shoved her hands into his hair, mourning at the gloves in her way.

He tucked his face into the crook of her neck, breathing heavily against her skin.  She squeezed him tight and he returned the pressure as the crowd around them positively roared with excitement at their princess returning to the man she'd been 'swanning off' with for so long.  

He pulled back after several moments, keeping his hands locked on her waist. "I missed you," he said loudly. 

"I missed _you!"_ She shouted back, laughing happily. "You came to bloody Powell, you fool!"

He beamed at her. "I couldn't not!  I couldn't leave you," he cupped her cheek in one of his hands. "You are so-"

"I lied to you."

"You withheld information," he said slowly, agreeing with her but at the same time not agreeing. "But it's alright, because I plan on visiting for a bit and then you can tell me all about the life you hid from me."

She bit her lip and looked down before looking back up at him and nodding. He let out a very happy sound and dipped his head to kiss her.  The moment their lips touched the crowd erupted again but she didn't let it last for very long before she was dragging him back to her horse with her.  He protested of course, with a very frantic "no, no, no Rose, oh, why would you do this to me?"

She waved for her saddle to be removed and she mounted bareback before he got up behind her, laughing breathlessly. He leaned around to press a kiss to her cheek and then waved sheepishly at Jackie.

"I'm John," he said over the noise. 

Jackie blinked. "John?"

"It's nice to meet you, Queen Jackie," he said, still sounding very shy indeed.  

He squeezed Rose around the waist and she burst out laughing and the parade continued.  The applause was ten times louder than it had been for the beginning of the parade, and Rose was ten times as happy. 

They returned to the castle and Sarah Jane deterred Jackie so that Rose and John could have a few moments alone.  She took her gloves off and reached for his hand with one of hers.  She slid her hand into his and smiled up at him.  

"Come with me," she said, and led him to the palace library, not sure where else to take him where he would enjoy it.  He let out a gentle gasp when they entered but his focus came right back in on her, honed in, focused.  She sat down on the couch, her skirts flaring around her quite wildly.  John sat down next to her and shoved the skirt close to her so that he could get closer to her.  He held her hand and stroked his thumb over hers, seeming like he was in awe of being able to touch her.  

"You came here," Rose said softly. 

"Yes," he replied, lifting his gaze to hers.

She bit her lip. "I never thought that I would hear from you again," she admitted, even as she winced at the words. 

"Donna may have talked some sense into me," he whispered, "I was moping.  But I really just needed to come here, to see you."

"You're not angry?"

He blinked. "No."  He frowned. "Wait.  Yes, I'm a little angry.  I wish you had told me."

"You wouldn't have stayed with me, if I'd told you."

"You don't know that," he pointed out, "And if I didn't, I wouldn't be someone worth staying with, don't you think?"  He pressed a kiss to her knuckles.  "And I have never felt this attached to someone.  Ever.  You understand me like no one else, and I want to talk to you about everything, spill my guts, flap my jaw," he paused, shocked he had spoken out loud.  Rose laughed and threw her arms around him again, not giving any thought to the dress and how it might wrinkle.  He sighed and ran his hands up her back.  

Rose somehow shifted closer so she could throw one leg over his, and he smiled as she struggled to settle herself in with him.  He pulled her so she was settled in his lap and she burrowed closer to him. 

"I thought you'd hate me," she said when she pulled away.  "I missed spending time with you, I felt like... I dunno, like I was empty or something."

"I felt the same way," he replied, "I got a hotel room, and-"

She frowned. "No."

"What?"

"No, I said no, you're not saying in a hotel when I have a thousand guest rooms here," she said, getting to her feet and putting her hands on her hips. "You're going to march down to that hotel and check out and come right back here, do you understand me?"

He got to his feet, blinking in the face of her dominance. 'Yes ma'am," he said softly. 

She walked closer to him and cupped his cheeks. "Good," she whispered, "Because I would like you as close as possible and I promise there are plenty of women who would try to pull you from me."

"They never could," he said with conviction.

She kissed him again, and her heart soared.  Maybe things would be alright after all.


	15. Chapter 15

John moved into the palace, at least temporarily.  He was very surprised, to say the least, when Jackie eyed him up when he was just trying to be civil and not throw himself at Rose.  

It was surprisingly difficult not to do so. She looked incredibly regal, but it wasn't that that drew him. It was her eyes, full of wisdom beyond her years and her posture, confident and womanly. He hadn't seen her like this before, because she had kept it from him, a part of his mind reminded himself, but he couldn't even be bothered with that.  He was so enthralled with her, so happy to be in her presence again, that they could be in a ditch and he would've been happy. 

"I think I can help John move in," Rose said, squinting at the clock.  "We've got a few hours until dinner, yes?" 

"Yes we do," Jackie said, crossing her arms.  "But do you really want to help this man move into his room?"

"Yeah, I do," Rose replied tartly. She cocked a brow at her mother. "Sorry mum, but I really think it's best that the servants did other things. You don't have to be worried about anything happening, I'm still a lady. I didn't lose all my morals in London." She turned on her mother and mouthed 'just a few' to John, who had to bit down on his lip to keep from laughing. 

"Well, John, I do expect you to go to the hospital to visit the King," Jackie said primly, looking down her nose at him. "I'm sure you understand that, don't you?"

"Yes, your majesty," John said, unsure of how he was supposed to be respectful but really doing his best. He scratched his ear, not really thinking that he had done the right thing at all but hoping that he had. 

Jackie nodded. "Yes. We'll do that tomorrow. I think you two have gathered enough attention for one day."

"I'm sorry," John blurted, "I didn't mean to cause a scene."

"You didn't mean to interrupt the parade?" Jackie asked, sounding like she didn't quite believe him.  "You didn't mean to jump on the back of the princess's horse and ride into the sunset?"

Rose smiled a little. She liked that thought that John had crashed the parade just for her, because he had missed her. 

Beside her, John fidgeted and wrung his hands before stuffing them into his pockets. "Well, if I'm quite honest, your majesty, I had missed Rose quite a great deal, and I couldn't... I didn't want to go on another moment without her."

Jackie seemed to soften a bit at that. "Well, all right, I'll see you both at dinner, now, won't I? I don't plan on eating alone." She looked at her perfectly manicured nails as though she really couldn't be bothered either way.  Of course, she'd loved to be bothered by her daughter's love life, because she wanted her to be happy, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to give the young man a hard time.

"Yes, your majesty," John said, nodding.  

"Yeah, mum," Rose replied, and moved to pick up one of John's bags, but he batted her hand away and picked it up himself, just as he had when they went to his family's house for Christmaas and refused to let her cary anything. 

She smiled and nodded down the hall, waving a quick goodbye to her mother before they walked off.  

"So, you live in a palace," John said conversationally.

Rose let out a bark of laughter. "Yes, I do," she said, "Sort of came with the family, I guess. Isn't that nice?"

He shifted his bags around and seemed to look very conflicted.  Rose watched him for a few moments as they walked and finally laughed and turned to him. "What?" She asked.  "What are you doing?"

"I want to hold your hand," he admitted softly, "I really want to hold your hand," he elaborated, with more emphasis.

She smiled, blushing softly, and she wasn't sure why. "Well, you'll be able to in a minute, I'm going to take you to your room first."

"You going to tuck me in too?"

"If you're good." Rose said, flouncing in front of him just slightly and flipping her hair off her shoulder.  She grinned at him and walked towards the door on the left and opened the door. "This is you, then."  

He waited for her to enter the room first before following.  He gaped at the lavish room, covered in gold and red. He had never seen something so beautiful.

Rose looked at him and wrinkled her nose. "I like your guest room better," she admitted, "This doesn't feel like a home, does it?"

"It's your home," he said, putting his bags down and reaching for her hands. He took them in both of his and stared down at them. "I really can't believe that this is your home.  Can you... I don't... It's truly crazy."

She pulled him a little closer. "Just me in different clothes."

He looked back up at her face, looking surprised.  "I don't mean that I think of you any differently," he said urgently, "I bought a plane ticket out here, because I need to be with you, I need you. I've never needed someone before, Rose, that terrifies me more than anything."  

She bit her lip. "I didn't know you felt that strongly about me. I thought you would forget me while I sat here and suffered without you. I've never needed anyone either, John, and it is a bit frightening, but we were... I dunno, maybe meant to find each other? I know I've never met anyone like you and I know I never will. But... How long will you stay?"

"I don't know," he admitted on a whisper. "I know I want to stay with you for as long as I can.  There are so many things I want to say to you, so many things that I want to do.  But I feel as though there will never be enough time." 

Rose pulled her hand from his and put her hands on his shoulders.  "Tell me what you want to say to me," she said, nudging her nose against his.

He shuddered and tugged her closer by the waist, her skirt crushing against his legs.  "You are perfect," he said, "And I think that after your hair is messy when you've been working all night, when you've just woken up, and when your cheeks are flushed from the cold and we're having a picnic.  I cannot imagine a scenario in which you are not the most beautiful woman I have ever met."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Come on, now, did you read that out of a romance novel?" She asked, feeling breathless just from his words.  She knew he wasn't sweet talking her, that he believed every word that came from his mouth.

Her eyes fluttered shut and she wrapped her arms all the way around his neck, pulling him closer still.  "I missed you," she said on a near whimper.

"I missed you too," he replied, "I have felt almost empty.  I shouldn't. I can't. I won't, in a way.  But I need-" he cut himself off by leaning forward to kiss her.  She squeaked in surprise but that didn't stop her as she plunged her hands into his hair and curled her fingers into the unruly locks.  He was careful not to touch her specifically done up hair (after all, he had to see her mother later) and instead let his hands roam up and down her sides and across her back. 

Finally, both of them had to break for air, and he latched his mouth onto her neck. She tilted her head back to give him more access and blinked up at the ceiling, scarcely able to believe where they were, that he was here, in Powell.  "How have things been at work?" She asked. 

"Fine," he murmured against her skin, licking his way up to her pulse point and biting gently, careful not to leave a mark.  Of course, he already knew better than that. 

"How's Donna?"

"She's good, her boyfriend stopped back for a little bit," he said.

"Do you like him?"

He pressed another deep kiss to her lips. "She certainly does. Doesn't matter if I do."

"Sure it does," she replied, "Does she like me?"

He pulled back, dark eyes searching hers.  His hand came up to cup her cheek gently. "Oh, Rose, she adores you. But not as much as I do, and I don't think she ever could."  She shifted her skirts so that she could get closer to him. 

"I'm sure mum will warm up to you," she said, a smile in her voice. 

He clung to her, like he was unable to let her go for just a moment for fear that she would disappear again. She quite understood the feeling and struggled to not cling to him just as desperately. 

"Your dad scares me," he said against the skin of her cheek.

She laughed breathlessly. "Why?"

"He's the king of a bloody country, Rose," he said, biting her earlobe.  "And his portraits are very scary as well."

She scratched her fingers along his neck. "Yeah, well, I'm sure you won't find him so scary. He's in the hospital."

John pulled away and sat down on the edge of the bed. "You're right," he said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I don't know, push that aside, like I did. Is he alright?"

"He's on his way to being alright," Rose said softly.  She stood before him and he parted his knees for her.  She placed herself in the spot he'd created for her, the bed making it so that they were eye level.  She reached up and cupped his cheeks. "You're not wrong for wanting to do a bit of... Catching up. I wanted to, too." 

"Yeah, but...." he huffed. "That was very disrespectful of me."

"You flew up.  From _London,"_ Rose said emphatically. "And you're apologizing for wanting to get a little frisky?"

He blushed hotly. "Rose."

She smiled at his, quite frankly, adorable reaction.  "You know, I know exactly where your room is, now."

"Do you?" He asked, playing along.

"I might get lonely."

"You might?" he cocked an eyebrow, his blush fading.

"But first I should probably help you unpack like I said I was going to," she said, and stepped away from him.  She flicked the overhead light on and he groaned, falling back on the bed. 

"You're killing me," he said mournfully, "You are absolutely destroying me and- this bed is really very comfortable."

She giggled at his change in topic and placed one of his bags on the desk in the room. "Okay, so what on Earth did you pack, and how did you fit it all in here?  Do you have enough?  We can go shopping."

"Nah," he replied, "I really don't think that'll be necessary.  I'm an expert folder, you know."  

"No, I didn't know. Maybe I should've let you pack my bag for Christmas," she said teasingly, pulling out a pair of his trousers and throwing them at his face. He let out a gentle 'oof' upon impact. 

"I still don't understand why you came to Uni when you have all this," he said, sitting up and looking at her, holding his trousers against his stomach.  

"Because I didn't want to live in this bubble forever," she replied simply, "I wanted to live."

"You're _living,"_ he said dramatically, spreading his arms out.

"What's living if you have nothing to live for besides a throne?" She wrinkled her nose. "That sounds disgusting. But I think you know what I mean."

He nodded, understanding her better than he thought he ever had, really. She was weighted with all the mess of a princess but wanted to learn and beyond that, wanted someone who wanted her and not because of her status. John gave her so much of that and he made her happy and she felt as though her heart could explode for it. 

"Have you, then?  Have you.... Lived?"

She nodded and smiled at him.  "I really think you know that," she said. "Now come on, let's get you unpacked.  I plan on keeping you around for a little bit, mister."

He smiled and felt his chest bloom with happiness.  This could be the best visit of his life.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER!!!! I'm glad you guys enjoyed this one, I love writing AUs. This one got away from me, though not as much as the Pirate AU did.
> 
> That being said, I need an idea for my next AU. I'd like to do another historical romance, but I don't know which to do.... Comment below if you have any ideas!

When John went with Rose and Jackie to see Pete in the hospital, Rose could tell that he was incredibly overwhelmed.  Her arm looped through his, she squeezed his arm to her side and he gave her a tight smile. 

"Oh, what's wrong?" She asked, a little confused. 

"I'm a little nervous," he confessed, a little smile on his face. 

She grinned wider at that. "That's sweet, but dad really isn't that scary I promise."

He wasn't very intimidating at least.  He lay in his hospital bed, sitting up now, and Rose took her post next to his bed.  Jackie took the other seat and John stood behind Rose, a hand on her shoulder. 

"Hello, sweet heart," Jackie said, taking his hand in hers. 

"Hi, Jacks," he replied softly, and cracked open his eyes.  His gaze moved from Jackie to Rose and then up to John.  He nodded his head against the pillows.  "And who are you?"

John dipped a bow, not sure what else to do, and swallowed.  "I'm John Smith.  I went to Uni with Rose."

"And you came up for a friendly visit?" Pete asked, a bit sarcastically. Before he could reply, Pete smiled widely. "It's alright, son, I know why you're here.  Rose spoke of you."

"She did?"

Rose looked over her shoulder incredulously.  "Oh, come on, you're surprised?"

He blushed and shook his head, admitting. "No, not really," he said softly.  He looked back at Pete.  "I've come because Rose asked me to, and I felt like I should meet you."

"You were right on that one," Pete replied, nodding.  "Smart boy.  And you're from London."

"Yes."

"Good."  He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry I can't stand to shake your hand and show you respect, John."

"I am sorry I can't show you your due respect, your majesty," John replied urgently. 

Pete inclined his head graciously and let his head fall back onto the pillows.  "I hope you stay around, John.  Rose is quite fond of you."

"Dad."

"Rose."

John laid his hand back on her shoulder, since he had moved it after he had bowed to her father.  She reached her hand up and touched it, silently acknowledging that he still had her attention, however partial it was. 

It was a couple hours before Pete announced he was exhausted and they needed to leave.  Rose, Jackie, and John all bid him goodbye in their own ways before leaving to go back to the palace.  There was plenty of press outside of the palace, trying to snap pictures into their car.  Rose buried her face in John's shoulder as they peppered her with questions.

"Princess Rose, is your father still at death's door?"

"Your majesty, will you raise the Princess alone?  Will she become Queen?"

"Will John Smith become King?"

John blinked and tugged Rose close to his side, letting her hide her face further form the crowd.  She pressed her ear to his chest and took comfort in the steady beats and the shifting of his chest as he breathed.  It was almost then that she realized that not only did she love him, but she wanted to keep on loving him for as long as humanly possible, even if that was forever. Especially if that was forever.  Once they'd passed the gate, Rose lifted her head and looked at him, her eyes forlorn. 

He cupped her cheek in his hand, stroking his thumb over the swell of it.  "Are you alright?" he asked.  

"Yes," she said, "It's happened before.  You'd think they'd leave him alone considering what happened to him, but no. It's all in the story."

She watched the angry dimple stand out in his cheek and giggled, shaking her head. "No," she promised, "It's fine, really.  I've dealt with it my whole life."

They had dinner and Jackie retired early, feeling drained from the day. She kissed her daughter goodnight and surprised John by ruffling a fond, motherly hand through his hair before she left. 

They sat in the cozier living room, watching telly, when Rose brought it up. 

"What do you want? After you graduate?"

"I don't know," he said honestly.  "I'd like to teach, really."

"Oh," she smiled.  "DO you think... Do you think you could do that, and be... Married?"

He stiffened next to her and his breath hitched. "What's that, now?" he asked calmly, acting as though he really hadn't known what she'd meant to begin with.

"Um... for you to marry... Me.  If you wanted. I don't want to force you, and I know that you want to live with your family, and to be quite honest I would love to live with your family too." She took a breath. "I want to stay with you, though. I know that. If there is one thing int his bloody world I want, it's to stay with you."  She sat back on her haunches on the seat, having changed into her pajamas some time after her mother had gone to bed. 

John blinked, still feeling quite overwhelmed since the most important woman in his universe had proposed to him, when there were still many questions to be answered.

"I'm... Afraid," he whispered. 

Her face fell slightly, and she slid away from him. "You're right, of course you are," she said, trying to sound reassuring. "I didn't mean to... I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me, really, it sort of grabbed me."

Speaking of grabbing, John's hand reached out and snatched her wrist, pulling her back to where she had been and turning slightly so that they were face to face. 

"Rose," just the way he said her name made her heart flutter violently in her chest. "It's not that I don't want to marry you.  But I have to finish school, and I don't want to be that far from my family.  They raised me."

"Yeah, like I said, I don't know what-"

"Shush," he said softly, and she bit her lip, deciding to do what he told her.  She felt her breathing pick up as she waited for him to say something else.  He finally did, several moments later. 

"But I think we could... Work it out?  I can go home and finish my classes, and you could come down for the summer... And we could get married after a year or so?"

She felt her heart thundering wildly, almost out of her control. "Really?" She whispered, smiling.

He nodded, his brows drawing together. "Of course," he whispered. "Of _course_ I want to.  Just not at this exact moment.  We can split our time, between London and Powell, can't we?"  She nodded, wanting this to work more than anything in the world. 

"But I have one request," he said, holding up a finger and releasing her wrist. 

Rose nodded eagerly, scooting forward.  

"I want to ask you. Properly.  Okay?"

She bit her lip, and nodded. "Yeah, okay," she agreed.  "Yes."

He pulled her in to kiss her, his hands holding her face, keeping her right where he wanted her.  Not like she was moving anyway, she thought to herself. His touch consumed her and could not imagine anything better than being touched by him.

He pressed closer to her, his tongue dipping into her mouth and searching her.  She sighed into his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck, moving so that he had his back against the couch and she was straddling his thighs.  He curled his fingers into her vest top.  

His mouth moved from her lips to down her nick, biting at her pulse point.  She sighed and leaned forwards against him, leaning into his touch.  He ran his hands into her hair and pulled back to look at her face. 

"I love you," he said with conviction, his voice breathless. 

She ran her hand through his hair and kissed his forehead and down across his cheek to reach his mouth again.  She kissed him deeply for several seconds before pulling back, her head tilted back and her eyes closed.  She tilted her head back down and looked at him. 

"I love you, too," she replied softly, as though she really didn't want anybody else to hear.  Those words were for him alone, and she knew that.

They continued on that way for quite some time.  Rose and John, as it was supposed to be.  When Pete was getting ready to get discharged from the hospital, as he was steadily recovering, John had to return to Uni.  Rose was feeling quite rejected by it even though she knew that everything between them was going to be fine.  But she knew other women liked him, and she really didn't want to have an competition, as selfish as that was.  

"So you'll come up in the summer?" He asked, forehead against hers.  "Visit my family?"

She nodded against him and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. "Yeah.  I'm gonna miss you."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her up against him. "I'm gonna miss you too," he whispered against her hair. He kissed her temple and pulled away.  "I have to go."

She left him that day and hoped that he wouldn't forget about her. 

**********

Of course, he didn't.  She went to his family's for summer, her father fully healed and ready to resume his duties as king, so Rose was more or less 'allowed' to stay at John's. 

The moment Sarah Jane dropped her off Donna was out of the house like a shot, embracing Rose tightly and squealing.  

Rose hugged her back, laughing and feeling her heart soar.  She loved John's family so much that she felt she could burst.  Donna released her and grabbed her by the hand, dragging her to the house.  

"Everyone has missed you so much!" She cried.  "John's running errands, he'll be back in a half hour."

Although Rose was disappointed she wouldn't see John (it had been three months since she had seen him last) she was happy to spend that half hour talking to Sylvia, Wilf, and Donna.  Rose felt more and more giddy with each passing moment.  It was odd, however, when John's key came in the lock and the family vacated, claiming that they all had something to do and would say hi to him in moment. 

Rose stood before the door, fidgeting with one of her bracelets.  He came through the door and Rose blinked. He had a _tuxedo_ on.  She blinked and he smiled.   She suddenly realized that he hadn't been doing any errands at all.

"I love you."

She grinned, tongue in her teeth. "What, I don't get a 'hello'?"

He shook his head, smiling back at her. "Nope.  I love you."

"I love you too.  I have some news for you."

"I have some for you."

"Oh?  You first."

"Mum's pregnant," she held up a hand when he wrinkled his nose.  "It's a boy. I'm not the heir anymore. I don't have to stay in Powell. I can stay here most of the time, with you and Martha and the others."

"Are you upset about not being the heir?" he asked. 

"No," she said, "I'll still be there, a part of the cabinet, but not until my brother takes the throne, which won't be for a long time.  My dad's still fighting yet," she laughed.

John laughed too and blew out his cheeks. "That makes this so much easier."  He got down on his knee and grabbed her hands in his.  "I love you, Princess Rose Marion Tyler.  And you would've been a princess to me anyway, becuase of what you mean to me.  I want you to do me the honor of becoming my wife.  So... Um, what do you say?  Will you marry me?"

Rose cried out in excitement, resisting the urge to put her hands over her mouth.  "Yes!" She cried, jumping up and down on her toes. 

He released one of her hands to pull out a tiny red ring box. "I'm all for commuting to Powell," John said, "Whenever you need."  He opened the box and inside sat a lovely diamond ring that made Rose's breath catch. 

"I know it's not what you're used to, maybe not big enough-"

She got on her knees before him, reaching out to cup his cheeks.  "You got it for me.  It's the most beautiful ring I could imagine."

He smiled and took her left hand in his, sliding the ring onto her finger.  He pressed a kiss to her knuckles, and then pulled her in for a proper kiss.  They weren't' alone for long though, as John's family stormed in and tackled both of them all the way to the floor, chattering excitedly. 

Rose burst out laughing, feeling her heart bubbling over with contentedness and happiness.  While his family was busy chatting about impending nuptials, he leaned over and whispered in her ear:

"And they lived happily ever after, my love."


End file.
